


Moonrise

by DragonflyxParodies



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
Genre: AU, Also adorable gods, Alternate Universe, Angst, Arranged Marriage, Civil War, Different Social Norms, Everybody Dies, F/M, Falling in love eventually, Gender Roles, Intrigue, M/M, Male Sheik, Murder, Only almost everybody, Plot, Plot Twists, Politics, Shink, Slooooow burn, Undead, Very angry gods, Violence, angry gods, not really - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-22
Updated: 2018-06-27
Packaged: 2018-10-22 19:13:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 13
Words: 28,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10703346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonflyxParodies/pseuds/DragonflyxParodies
Summary: Hyrule is still reeling from its own civil war, and Termina is about to enter one of its own. After an arranged marriage sends him to Termina to keep things stable, Sheik finds himself embroiled in a centuries-old plot of revenge. Political intrigue, murder, vengeful deities, and relationship woes. Wonderful.





	1. This is why you don't lie to your sister

**Author's Note:**

> So this is an AU which I don't usually feel the need to point out, but this fic in particular has one huge mechanic by which it is definitely AU and I feel needs to be pointed out now to stop any future issues.  
> Gender is irrelevant in context of marriage here. Two individuals of the same sex can marry and do, (Hyrule moreso than Termina). This is explained in the fic (This is because of Hyrule's religious beliefs/creation myths/etc) but it may cause confusion for some people. If you know what Gayle Rubin's 'Charmed Circle' is, it's essentially that except that gender isn't in it. Which is a really shitty summary, but again, read on to find the full explanation/etc. If you have any questions, feel free to ask!

               Zelda was sitting on the desk in his study, lit in the glow of the hearth when he entered. Aveil was asleep on the rug beside the flames, curled like a cat towards the stone. Sheik shut the door behind him carefully, raising an eyebrow at his sister as he stepped over to her.

“What do you need?” He asked softly, though he was still eyeing her suspiciously. Last time she’d come to his study she’d wanted his help sneaking out of the castle without Ganondorf finding out, and _that_ had been a complete shitshow.

Her expression morphed into one of pure nervousness for an instant before she could get it under control, and she smoothed her palms across her skirt before answering.

That wasn’t helping much with his own unease.

“…I spoke to the council.”

He blinked. That was…not what he was expecting.

“What about?”

She shot him a withering look.

“You know. I asked them to reconsider your suitors. I found your dossiers.” She added, producing the files from somewhere Sheik really didn’t want to think about and dropping them onto his desk. Still, he winced. He’d been hoping she wouldn’t find out.

“Lord Keet is a moron, but he’s honest. And I don’t think Lady Midna is _that_ bad.“

“She’s a Din-damned _psychopath_ , Sheik. Do you have any idea how many of her people have gone missing?!”

Yes, yes he did. He had a separate dossier just for her victims. Though to be fair, he wasn’t sure she actually _killed_ any of them, because their bodies had never been recovered—they all might still be alive in her _extremely_ expansive dungeon.

“And you _weren’t_ going to tell me?” Zelda’s voice dropped to a low, dangerous tone. He had not, he realized, been hiding his emotions well enough. But he sighed, and held his hands up placatingly.

“I didn’t want to worry you. The council has already decided I must pick between the two and I can take care of myself.” He was obligated to, too.

Unadulterated rage flashed across her face and before he could take a step back she’d slapped him.

It _stung_.

“You are _lucky_ I won’t have you put in the fucking _stocks_ for this you _son of a bitch!”_

That startled a laugh out of him.

Zelda was silent for a moment, gaze still spitting fire and expression frozen in a sort of panicked anger—and then she sighed, deflating.

“That isn’t exactly an _insult_ , sister mine.”

“Does Ganondorf know?” Her voice was still razor sharp, angry.

“No.” The King deferred all things Hylian to Zelda, even if he knew it would cause her undue stress. Admirable, his refusal to lie to his Queen, but damn inconvenient when Sheik was trying _not_ to piss her off.

She closed her eyes for a moment, going still. He frowned, studying her closely.

“What did you come here for?”

She sat up straighter, folding her hands in her lap again.

“Ganondorf’s received word from his sisters in Termina. There’s some…unrest brewing. He’d like to send someone to keep the country stable.”

“Stable? The civil war only ended what, twenty-five years ago? And the place has been divided long before that.” Sheik added, nodding towards the map framed behind his desk. He’d drawn on it, divided Termina into five segments. Each was the territory of the five races that lived there—they’d each sequestered themselves in their own lands, refusing to so much as acknowledge the human throne that technically ruled over them. As far as Sheik knew things were relatively quiet, so long as everyone respected traders and kept to themselves otherwise. He’d have heard by now if something big was happening, at least. He hoped.

“He doesn’t want to send someone to unify them, Sheik. Just maintain the peace. There’s been some actions on the part of the humans that has them worried. If war breaks out the first people the humans will attack will be the Gerudo, and they’ve already told Ganondorf they won’t abandon their homes again.”

“Not the Ikanians?” He asked, surprised and perhaps questioning Zelda’s assumption.

“What do you fear more, the dead or pirates? Honestly.” He added, raising his hands at her scowl.

“ _Anyway_ , given _recent developments_ , I’ve made the decision to send you.”

Sheik blinked, then shook his head.

“You think the counsel will allow it? They want a wedding.”

“And they will get one.”

Dear Nayru, she looked so _smug_ as she produced a scroll from her sleeve, handing it to him. He accepted it warily and unrolled it carefully, not sure what to expect.

He had to reread it, to make sure he wasn’t seeing things.

“What.”

An engagement contract?

“Ganondorf needs someone in Termina, and the unrest there won’t disappear overnight. You need a spouse I can sleep soundly at night knowing you are with.”

“Do you even know this man? And has the council given their consent?” Sheik asked sharply. He didn’t exactly like his choices here in Hyrule, but he’d be _damned_ if he was going to go out without a fight. Though he was most definitely grasping for straws and she knew it.

“The council will do as I tell them like the good little rats they are. I’ve given them a wedding, and one more politically advantageous than marrying another of our own nobles. As for knowing him, no. I met him once when he visited Castle Town with his mother and he was perfectly sweet then. I asked Aveil’s cousins and they have had nothing but good things to say about him. Apparently he is a highly sought after training partner—I am quoting them on that.”

Well, at least she clarified _that_. No Gerudo would call a man a good training partner if he wasn’t skilled, and they wouldn’t have used the word training if he was warming their beds.

“I think I’d rather take the sadist.”

“You don’t have a choice, you little shit.” She’d been spending too much time with Nabooru, he decided. He’d only ever seen her this angry twice before—at Impa, before the former nursemaid’s banishment, and at the council, before she and Ganondorf had brought them to heel. It had never boded well for her targets.

“Zelda—“ She hopped off of his desk in a _very_ unroyal-like fashion and flapped a hand dismissively at him.

“You had your chance, brother mine. We’ll begin planning the ceremony in the morning, so please, get some rest.”

And the door clicked shut behind her, leaving him staring bewildered after her as Aveil continued to snore on, oblivious.


	2. You're engaged, surprise!

               Link was herded into the throne room without so much as a word from Kafei, though the guard kept shooting him worried looks when he thought Link couldn’t see. It wasn’t helping.

His uncle rarely bothered with him, even less so than his aunt. To receive such official summons, especially in the middle of the day, _and_ that required an escort…

He was still pulling a clean shirt on when Kafei pushed him through the double doors and into his uncle’s sight.

He received disapproving looks from both his aunt and his cousin, though a smile pulled at the corners of Osfala’s mouth. His uncle wasn’t yet looking at him, and Link took advantage of that. He’d managed to adjust his shirt and make himself more or less presentable by the time his uncle lifted his head from the papers in his hands.

Cole was a very intimidating man, though he was shorter than Link by about two heads and thinner than a twig. He knew how to manipulate people, and how to cultivate his cold, merciless reputation that was by no means stretched past the truth. Link had never been good at dealing with him. His aunt, at least, let him be as long as he did as he was told.

“You’re late.”

“My apologies. I was training in the back fields when Kafei found me.”

“Who?” _That_. _That right there_. That was why Link loathed dealing with the man.

“Your guard captain.”

Cole flicked a hand, grunting dismissively as he reclined in his throne. Link glanced behind him while Cole’s attention was elsewhere, in time to see Kafei closing the door behind himself.

Great.

“Sign this.” Cole slid the papers in his hand down the table in front of him, and Link was careful to handle them carefully as he pulled them closer and scanned the writing on them.

And then he froze.

“…A marriage contract?” That’s what it was—or at least what it appeared to be, in any case. Between him and someone named Sheik Nohansen. And the legal and political jargon taking up so much of the contract itself was _well_ beyond anything he could understand. Someone important, he assumed because of that. But— _marriage?!_ He looked up, bewildered, in time to see Cole wave a hand at his aunt. Dina stepped forward and took over immediately.

“Hyrule may still be an unstable mess, but its child queen is still very powerful. Powerful enough to back us and silence those fool barbarians who don’t yet acknowledge our rule.” That was the politest he’d ever heard her speak of Termina’s other races.

“Wait, but—“

“She favors her father’s bastard. Some half-Sheikah mongrel barely worth the effort this contract took, _if_ she didn’t hold him in such high regard. He’s in need of a spouse and apparently Hyrule didn’t have anyone willing to bite. She was rather forward about it—no minced words with that one, I’ll give her that.”

He was still confused, but Link knew there was no getting out of it—there never was, when his aunt and uncle were involved. But—bastard or not, that would make this Sheik an _actual Prince_ , wouldn’t it? Why would they have chosen _him_ as the man’s spouse?

He caught Osfala’s gaze, and his cousin straightened a little before speaking.

“He is not in line for the throne. Some stipulation for acknowledging him as Her Majesty’s brother, cousin. He is valuable for his connections, not what he may inherit.”

“Yes, but—he still has _status_. Why chose me? I—I am not trying to argue with you, Uncle, I just do not understand this.” Link was careful to add, lifting his hands placatingly. Osfala may have explained why his aunt and uncle were so interested in the match, but that didn’t help much.

The land Link owned was under the control of his uncle—he had been too young to properly inherit it when his mother had died, and there was no one who would fight for him now. Any wealth he may have inherited too, had been taken by his aunt and uncle. He lived on charity of his aunt and uncle—it was why he had apprenticed himself under Kafei the minute he’d been old enough to do so. This Sheik, if the marriage went through, would live at the castle with him. Especially if they wanted the prince for his connections—Dina and Cole would never let him out of their sight.

That realization was absolutely depressing. He’d never found it too much of an issue, his own powerlessness. But putting someone _else_ under their control?

“Chose you? Boy, what do you think you are? No child of mine will marry some blood-eyed rat, I don’t care who it knows.” Cole snorted, reclining further into his throne. Again, Osfala tried to play peacemaker.

“Her Majesty asked for you, Link. By name.”

It took all his willpower to keep his expression blank. Osfala may have been trying to help, but Dina would use that to fish for information.

He’d only been to Hyrule once, when he was a small child with his mother. He didn’t remember much besides a courtyard garden he’d spent most of his time in, playing with other children. An innocent enough memory, but the implication was that the Queen had been there, and that he’d made a lasting impression if she remembered him now. That had been _years_ ago.

And Link did not discuss anything related to his mother with _anyone_. Besides Kafei, because the man was not an asshole.

He didn’t say anything else, and signed the documents with an offered quill in silence.

They let him go afterwards without much trouble, only telling him that as soon as they received a confirmation they would travel to Hyrule for the ceremony.

He found Kafei waiting for him outside the throne room, looking worried.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m engaged?” It came out as more of a question than Link had intended it to.

“To who?”

“Hyrule’s prince, I guess?”

Kafei’s eyes went wide for a moment before he got himself under control. It was an accurate display of what Link was feeling.

“Let me guess. You know fuck all about Hyrule?”

“That is true.” Link said, a faint smile touching his lips as he relaxed a little. Subordinate or not, Kafei had always treated him like a person. A friend. If there was anything he needed help with, Kafei was always there willing to lend a hand. That this wasn’t any different was an incredible relief.

Kafei rolled his eyes and pushed himself off of the wall he’d been leaning on, clapping Link on the shoulder.

“Well. To the Milk Bar.”

“Why…?”

“I have to explain somewhere around the last fifty years of foreign politics to you tonight so you don’t embarrass yourself in front of your husband. You’re buying me a drink first.”

He couldn’t really argue with that, could he?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think!


	3. Awkward dinner

               It had been ten years since Ganondorf had taken over Hyrule, but the council still hadn’t adjusted to Gerudo customs. And Sheik still found it amusing to watch them try. He didn’t think he ever wouldn’t.

The Gerudo ate their meals communally, seated at low tables covered in a variety of dishes they passed between each other. Ganondorf had adapted it for more personal meals— _not_ political dinners or celebrations—but shortly after her first trip to the desert Zelda had adapted the practice for _all_ meals, official or not.

Ganondorf was in deep conversation with Aveil and Nabooru at the head of the table, Zelda seated at his other side. She was studiously avoiding looking up from the food in front of her—the council, at the far end of the table, was trying not-so-subtly to get her attention.

Sheik settled onto the empty cushion beside her, accepting a plate piled with strips of roasted venison without a word.

He hadn’t realized how hungry he was until she did so, and he realized that he had skipped lunch.

He had not slept the previous night either. He had been alternating between figuring out what he needed to do to shift his current networks over to someone else—and who that would be—and going through the little information he had about his soon-to-be-husband.

He’d come to two conclusions. The first, that setting up an entire intelligence network without ever considering the possibility that he may not be there to run it had been a _bad_ idea. The second, that Zelda had purposely chosen this Link _just_ to piss him off.

He had a month until the ceremony itself. Zelda had, somehow, kept it from him while she had finalized the major parts of the contract with Lord Cole. Not enough time to send for any detailed information—not that he had any capable contacts in Termina to begin with—besides what Zelda had provided. And there wasn’t much.

Link Sahasrahla was the nephew of Lord Cole of Termina. No mention of a father—Sheik assumed there was a scandal there—and a mother killed when he was a boy. Cole had taken him in to take advantage of that. While not the true ruler of Termina, as the other races refused to acknowledge him, he was still considered their leader for all foreign political matters. The death of Link’s mother had helped solidify his rule somewhat, though it had pissed a great many of his citizens off. At some point Link had joined with his uncle’s elite Guard, and sparred with the Terminain Gerudo ambassador and her entourage. Besides that there was no mention of the boy. He could fight, he’d shown the Gerudo some amount of respect, and by all estimates was younger than Sheik.

 _That was it_.

For someone who made it a point to know everything he could about any situation he went into, it was _infuriating_.

At least with Lord Keet and Lady Midna, there had been enough information available for him to more or less guess how things would go. Lord Keet would take his lady friend as a mistress and Sheik would most likely have only seen him when the man whined about their marriage. Lady Midna would have been more dangerous than the Lost Woods at midnight, but Sheik was sure he would have been able to at _least_ work something out with her.

At least then, he would’ve had a choice.

Zelda was staring at him, giving him her best sister look.

“What?”

“This will work out, Sheik. Don’t worry too much over it.”

“I’m going to spend the rest of my life in another country, Zelda. I believe that gives me _some_ right to worry.” The bite to his words didn’t faze her, and for that he was thankful. He may have been furious with her, but that didn’t mean he wanted to hurt her in turn.

He still held her gaze, refused to look away.

“At least tell me why you chose him.”

“If you weren’t being such an ass, I would have told you earlier.” She snorted, and turned back to the table.

Little white-gold runes lit up on the underside of the table, on the walls behind them. They shifted and then grew a dull red after a moment—Ganondorf had already activated his own runes, it seemed. The two of them had stored their power in them so that private conversations could be had, while still holding up appearances. Wonderful things, in Sheik’s opinion. It was far less conspicuous than retreating to a private study, or ordering the servants to back off. The runes served as misdirection, not silencing, spells. Anyone listening would not be able to understand the conversation, and find their attention drawn elsewhere.

“I found some old letters hidden in the library addressed to my mother from Ikanian, Garo and Zora court members. They were trying to position Link’s mother to take the throne from her brother. She wasn’t a racist pig, you see. They liked that. If things go… _badly_ …the letters imply that even now, if there was no other option, they would support your fiancée.”

“…You want me to overthrow the fucking—“

“No. But keep it in mind as an _option_. If something were to happen like what happened _here_ , both countries would fall apart. The next successor _must_ be Terminian, and if he is anything like his mother you’ll have already won half the battle.”

Well, that was…news. Good news, too.

“So if this Lord Cole is as much of an ass as I’ve heard, I can kill him?” He spoke before he think to stop himself.

Ganondorf promptly sighed and put his head in his hands, and Aveil burst out laughing. They’d been listening, it seemed.

“Do you _want_ another war?” Ganondorf asked slowly.

“Well if I have all the pieces in place now anyway, might as well—“

“No, no you cannot kill him.”

“What if—“

“Sheik, if he hurts you a literal army of _corpses_ will rise up and _eat him alive_.”

“So if _I_ don’t touch him—“

He was being difficult at that point, but only Zelda and Aveil seemed to get that he didn’t really mean it. Nabooru was looking both horrified and amazed as she gaped at them.

“Speaking of which, before you decide to create an international incident, you may want to figure out how exactly you’re going to leave Hyrule without breaking every ward on the Shadow Temple.” Zelda interrupted, though the grin on her lips betrayed the seriousness of her words.

Sheik sighed, deflating and tilting his head back to look at the ceiling.

“I’ll ask Grandfather. Check out the crypts. They might know something. I would assume that as long as this Link swears an oath to them it would be fine, though. It isn’t like I’m abandoning them. I’ll be buried here, and I’ll…visit. Though the crypts will be your business, sister mine.”

“You’ll have to write out the spells I’ll need.” She said softly, and Sheik looked down in time to see the runes fading.

There was a reason his brother-in-law and sister kept the dining hall so brightly lit. The glow of the runes wasn’t noticeable, with all the other light.

Zelda was right, though. She was not Sheikah, and could not heal the dead. And, being dead, they tended to injure themselves often.

He let out another sigh, realizing just how much work he had to do before the wedding.

“What do you plan on doing about your...work?” Ganondorf asked, and then immediately sighed again. Nabooru rolled her eyes at him, and Aveil stood up and moved over to Sheik’s side.

“He’s had a long day.” She said, patting his shoulder. Sheik couldn’t help but smirk at that. Subtly was not Ganondorf’s strong suit, and he was struggling.

“I think I have a solution. I haven’t put much thought into it, but I think it’ll work. Come to the library tonight and I’ll run it by you.”

“That include us?” Aveil asked, pouting.

“Nabooru would kill me if it didn’t.” Aveil looked surprised, but Nabooru had a hard time hiding her grin.

Sheik enjoyed antagonizing Ganondorf’s second-in-command, yes, but she was capable, trustworthy, and loyal. Everything he needed.

Because he would be gone, soon, and he wanted to ensure Zelda had all of the protection she would need, standing alone against a still-divided country. Splitting his duties up into different roles would work wonderfully, if everyone he had in mind agreed.

And who would expect Her Majesty’s spymaster to be more than one person?

Though…Zelda would not like the fact that he wanted to add Lady Midna to their number.

But that was an argument for later that night.

Ganondorf stood, and held out a hand to Zelda. She accepted, hiding a grin as he pulled her to her feet with no effort whatsoever.

“We’ll be there.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter and the next one will give you more information on everybody's backstory ~whooooo~


	4. Kafei's an alcoholic and Link panics

               Kafei watched him struggle with the door with a stupid grin stretched across his face. When Link finally got it open and set down the crate of bottles he was holding, he shot the older man a rude gesture.

Kafei laughed, and squeezed into Link’s room.

It was little more than a broom closet, in all honesty, but it was private. And clean. Link loved the Milk Bar’s food, but the place was filthy. They’d bought a crate and lugged it back to the castle, rather than stay and drink there. On Kafei’s orders, but Link wasn’t complaining too much about that.

He had a bed just big enough for him to lay down on, a chest, a chair, and a rack to hang his weapons and armor on properly. He wasn’t exactly neat, either—items were strewn across the top of the chest, the chair, and the bed. Kafei piled the stray articles of clothing and trinkets on the chair with a smirk.

“I thought I taught you how to at _least_ keep your damn room clean.”

“Been a little busy with all the patrols, lately.” Link shot back, moving the crate closer to the bed. Kafei waved him off when he moved to help the older man with his armor, but still laughed.

“Groose asked me to keep you out of the castle. Your aunt and uncle were a little more abrasive than usual while ironing out your engagement, he said.”

That surprised Link.

“Did _everyone_ know but me?”

“I didn’t know it was an engagement, but your cousins must’ve.” Kafei said, shrugging. For all his sass about Link’s mess, he left his armor in a pile on the floor without bothering to properly take care of any of it.

Kafei dropped onto the bed so hard they both bounced, and accepted the bottle Link was holding out to him.

For all his age and status, Kafei had always been very casual with him. Unprofessional, to some extent, but for every minute Kafei joked around with him or was an actual friend, he spent two beating the shit out of Link or pushing him harder than ever before in training.

“So, this Sheik. Can you…?”

Kafei held up a hand, and Link sighed and waited while the guard captain chugged his drink. Chateau Romani was his favorite, and Link already knew he was determined to not let any of it go to waste.

“ _Alright_. Gimme another one. So. What do you know about the Sheikah?”

That was…not where he was expecting Kafei to start.

“Um, they’re distantly related to the Garo? I remember something about serving the royal family, and that they’re pretty much gone. And they have red eyes.” Link shrugged.

Kafei rolled his own very red eyes at that.

“Well, you’re not wrong. Like I said before, this is about fifty years of history. I’ll just tell you the basics, but if you don’t memorize it and say something stupid in front of your fiancée you _will_ regret it.”

“You’re really making this sound more ominous than I think it needs too.” Link muttered, stretching his arms above his head as he leaned back. Kafei shook his head, also ominously, and began.

“Hyrule is sort of like Termina, in that all of the races rule themselves with a royal line that rules over all of them. The difference is that Hyrule is much less segregated. The only non-humans you’ll find in Clock Town are ambassadors or traders. Hyrule’s a little better at mixing cultures and peoples. About fifty years ago, Queen Hilda decided to impose some strict trading laws on the other races. She was your fiancée’s grandmother. The Zora were not happy about that, and basically told her to fuck herself before withdrawing their presence from Hyrule and holing up in their Domain.”

“…Isn’t the Domain part of Hyrule, though?” Link took a sip of his own drink as he spoke—he was a lightweight, and he highly doubted getting drunk during their conversation would help. Drinking nothing, though, was out of the question.

There was a reason he’d picked up a blade and not a book.

“Yeah, but the royal family has no power there. It’s essentially a kingdom within a kingdom.”

That made sense. Kafei was describing it the same way most people described Ikana, and that Link could understand.

Kafei waited a moment before continuing.

“So the Queen ordered the Sheikah to bring the Zora King to heel. The Sheikah were pretty numerous at that point—they had a village of their own by Death Mountain, and were pretty well integrated into the royal army, councils, and so on. They’d sworn to protect and serve the royal family, some said at the beginning of time, and so most of them spent their entire lives doing so in some way. But they didn’t take kindly to being ordered to start a civil war over a trade agreement. They refused. So the Queen had them all murdered.”

“Wait—“

“She said they were traitors, and was probably more than a little scared of how powerful they were. Within a couple of weeks they’d been killed or enslaved.”

“Wait, so the _royal family_ did that? I thought—don’t give me that look, even you tune Osfala out when he gets going.” Link added, scowling. Kafei still snorted, rolling his eyes.

“You’re fucking stupid, is what you are. Yeah, the royal family. And—no, nobody escaped. They take their vows very seriously. And they guard undead and corpses and shit—they’re not as sentient as the Ikanians in Hyrule, so abandoning them would have been bad.”

“I didn’t think they had any.” Link said surprised. Kafei lifted an eyebrow, expression pointed.

“Oh, fuck you. Seriously, fuck you.”

“You’re a fucking moron, Link.”

“I’ve never been to Hyrule!”

“Or picked up a book, apparently.” Kafei retorted, rolling his eyes.

Link glared at him, setting down his drink and folding his arms over his chest.

“Are you going to be an asshole the whole time?”

Kafei’s smirk dropped, and he shook his head.

“I won’t mock the dead, so no. But—the dead in Hyrule are very important to the Sheikah. I don’t know how your prince is going to work around that, because from what I understand they’ll come after him if he leaves. Be prepared to deal with them.”

Link almost asked why they didn’t just stay in Hyrule, then, but caught himself. Dina and Cole had agreed to the engagement because of the connections and power the prince would bring. They would want him close, where he would be under their control. Allowing him to remain in Hyrule would put him out of their reach.

“Alright.”

“So, getting back to the history. The Sheikah were either dead or enslaved. Those that lived were forced to swear their allegiance to the Crown, again. Every immediate member of the royal family was given a Sheikah to guard them. By the time your prince’s father inherited the throne, there were only a handful left. Your prince’s father fucked one of them and had a kid, while he was married. Two years later his wife gave birth to the current Queen.”

Which meant that, roughly, Sheik was older than he was by around three years. That was not as great a difference as Link had been thinking there would be.

“So…shit, how long ago? Somewhere around ten years? We’ll go with that. The king decided to start a bunch of projects in Hyrule that, like his mother, fucked over the other races. The Gerudo especially. He built a dam and cut off their water supply, started cutting down the forests near the border they needed to hunt, and started killing any Gerudo he found on their side of the border. There was a lot of back and forth and it seemed like a war was imminent when the Gerudo King, Ganondorf, traveled to the castle to forge a peace treaty. He ended up killing your prince’s father and, to avoid sending Hyrule into chaos, promised to marry the princess. The Gerudo took over and though they undid a lot of the former king’s bullshit, the Hylians didn’t like that. Up until their actual marriage—she was twelve when they were engaged and he wouldn’t marry her until she came of age—Hyrule had multiple uprisings and revolts. He put down every single one of them.” Despite himself, Kafei sounded impressed. And Link was, too.

The Gerudo were terrifying warriors, but they were vastly outnumbered. In Termina, and Link had no doubt they were in Hyrule, too. And to fight in a land that was not their own for so long—the Gerudo in Termina absolutely loathed the mainland. Only the seas and the cliffs they built their homes on were good enough for them. That they’d fought so long over Hyrule was incredible.

“…So what does that mean for the engagement, then?”

“Let me finish. During this unrest the princess started to take on official duties—Ganondorf started handing over Hylian matters to her early on. This included restoring the council of advisors to their positions. Your prince was there for all this, though he isn’t mentioned much until the council had been around for about a year. They started going after him because he was a bastard, and wanted him either dead or exiled. Thought he threatened his sister’s throne, though it was Ganondorf’s at that point. Your prince killed a couple of them and she exiled the rest, and she had him declared a full-blooded Nohansen. Only stipulation was that he couldn’t inherit the throne, because their father hadn’t been the one to do it. Things got a lot more stable after that. And here we are.”

Kafei shrugged, waggling his empty bottle at Link until he switched it out for a full one.

“And he just got away with killing them?” Link asked slowly, frowning. Obviously the politics of Hyrule were fucked up, and he didn’t think he’d ever understand it, but to get away with murder so obvious they knew about it in Termina?

“The official story is that they were plotting against Ganondorf. Rebellion leaders were grasping at straws—there’s still rumors that the Queen is being held against her will and is forced to play along with her husband’s whims. My bet is that they tried to position your prince as a potential figurehead and he didn’t want anything to do with it. He keeps himself private, but his first priority is his sister. He’s led raids and battles with Ganondorf in her name.”

That actually comforted Link. This Sheik couldn’t be so bad, if he was that concerned over someone else. Right? Though the fact that the Queen’s husband seemed to be supporting her confused him. Even if his hand had been forced, which was what Kafei seemed to be implying, Link doubted that any man would give up the power their people had died to protect.

“…Is that it?”

“About all I know. You’ll have to get the details from him. When you’re married.” Kafei added needlessly, reaching forward and poking Link in the forehead.

“I think I’d feel better if I knew the man first. If we could meet, beforehand.”

“Did you ever think you had a choice?”

“I’m not _that_ stupid. I just don’t like going into this blind. What if he’s—what if he isn’t….you know?” Kafei stared at him blankly for a moment, and then laughed.

“You’re worried he won’t want to fuck? Of all things—“

“Groose doesn’t like men, and Osfala doesn’t like _anything_! And it—we’ll get shit. I know it’s not a problem in Hyrule, but Termina’s…for fuck’s sake, _Grandmother_ had to deal with political fallout after marrying her wife! I know it’s been a while since then, but do you think Cole would respect our marriage at all? Yeah, he gets connections, but…besides that?” Link pressed, scowling. He was serious, and Kafei’s dismissal of his concern stung. He figured he and his fiancée would be able to deal with the marriage—neither of them had a choice, and Link didn’t intend to be an asshole about it. He hoped, and thought it a safe bet, that they’d be able to at least get along. But sex was another matter entirely.

Kafei sighed and leaned forward, grabbing Link’s shoulders.

“Look, you little shit. The tradition originated in Hyrule. If the Hyruleans themselves aren’t tolerant of it, we have a problem. It’ll be fine.”

Link was unconvinced.

“…You’re going to panic at me all month, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“I’m not going with you, you know. To Hyrule. My place is here.”

“I know. That’s why I’m going to spend the next month making your life miserable with my constant panicking.” Link muttered, raking a hand through his hair.

“You’re doing good so far.” Kafei ventured, almost hopefully.

“It hasn’t sunk in yet.” Link retorted, rolling his eyes. Kafei deflated at that.

“…You ever thought about getting married? ‘Cuz you’ll get to pick your spouse.” Link added, curious. Kafei tensed a little bit—he was a very private person, and Link had always been careful not to ask too much about his personal life—but eventually shrugged.

“I was engaged, once. A long time ago. But it didn’t…pan out.”

“I’m sorry.” Link said quietly, frowning. That was why he didn’t usually ask personal questions. It always led to something

“It’s in the past. I don’t regret it.” Kafei spoke softly and shrugged. His smile was soft, but not pained. Sad, not bitter.

“Anyway, look to the bright side of things! Can’t be so bad. Now say a prayer to the Trickster and let’s get drinking!”

Link obliged, reaching onto the windowsill above his bed and pulling down the offering cup he kept there. Kafei poured a fresh bottle of Chateau Romani into it, and murmured a few prayers over the liquid. He handed it to Link, and Link repeated the same prayers before replacing it on the windowsill.

Then Link froze, because _holy shit_ , what about religion?

“What about—“ He whipped his head around to face Kafei, and the guard captain let out a loud groan.

“Oh for _fuck’s sake_!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obviously, Kafei doesn't know the full story of things. You'll learn more when they meet and Sheik gets to talk to him, but this is the bare bones! Much more info than in Sheik's chapter, but that's 'cuz he knows everything lol. Or at least thinks he does.


	5. a wild council appears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a council meeting except Sheik's drained and everybody's an asshole and also Sheik is paranoid.

               Mummified hands moved into Sheik’s line of view, and he looked up as Grandfather picked up a stack of unused books. A soft wheeze escaped the corpse, as he lifted the books up, but he crept into the bookshelves behind them with more energy than he usually had.

Sheik caught Zelda’s eye, and shared a smile with her. Grandfather loved visitors, and having so many people in the library had him overjoyed.

Ganondorf, Aveil, Nabooru, and Zelda were already seated—they were waiting on two others. Zelda would kill him when the others arrived, Sheik knew, but…he _needed_ Zelda to be safe when he left. And only the best could keep her safe.

“When will we start?”

Sheik looked up at the door, just in time to see it swing open. Lady Midna was smirking so widely he thought her face might split in two. Malo came in behind her, but he just looked uncomfortable.

“Now, I truly hope you have a good excuse for me, my Lord. Refusing my hand in marriage and then dragging me all the way to the capital for some clandestine meeting is _not_ how one gets into my good graces.”

Malo gave her a look and bolted for the empty seat at Sheik’s side. Zelda kicked Ganondorf under the table, glaring at Sheik as she did so. She was going to kill him.

“Thank you for coming. Sit wherever you like. Zelda, if you would please spell the room before you have your husband kill me…?”

Her magic snapped into place so quickly his ears popped.

Grandfather reappeared and settled beside Malo, patting the boy’s shoulder in greeting. Malo murmured a hello, and Midna leaned forward, interest sparking in her eyes.

He had her hooked. Good.

“I run an intelligence network, as most of you know. I make sure I know everything that is going on in Hyrule and if anyone threatens the King or Queen I have them killed before they can make too much of a fuss. I’m leaving. I need you all to take on that role, in different parts. Lady Midna, I trust you about as far as I can throw you. But we need you, and I think the challenge will keep you loyal.” Sheik _knew_ she enjoyed a challenge, and he knew she was pissed she’d never been able to find his contacts in her province. That alone would be—should be—irresistible. She rolled her eyes at that, but her smile was hungry.

“Sweetheart. Please. I know very well that if any other psychopath were to rule Hyrule I’d be put to death.” That was true—she didn’t exactly keep her hobby _secret._ While she may not have hidden it, however, her people defended her with a vengeance. If another took control of Hyrule it wouldn’t be an execution as much as a full-on civil war. Again.

Sheik was _tired_ of war. That was why they were meeting. If everything could be taken care of behind the scenes, there would be no battlefields. No mountains of corpses, no funeral pyres so thick with smoke it marred the sky for days. No hollow-eyed children holding the hands of motionless siblings, mothers, fathers.

“Nabooru, I want you in charge of security here in the castle. Aveil, information here in the castle. Malo will oversee information in Castle Town, and Lady Midna, I want you in charge of information in all Hyrule. Preferably areas these two aren’t in charge of, but don’t ignore them either.” Sheik added, parceling out papers.

“Nabooru and Aveil will share information duties in the desert as well.” Sheik added, and handed them another stack of papers.

“What the fuck is this?” Aveil asked, her eyes huge.

“A brief overview of all the shit you need to watch out for, contacts, people who owe me favors and people I owe favors too. Who to go to for what, safe-houses, passwords, codes and catches. The works. There’s a shit ton more where that came from, thanks to Malo and his crew. Memorize what you have and burn it. I’m not comfortable having the rest of it written down, but you’ll need it. Be careful what you tell Zelda about the other nobles or council members though, because she can’t act and she’ll give herself away immediately.” Sheik added, glaring at Aveil as the Gerudo slowly pulled her own papers out of Zelda’s hands sheepishly.

“Is this solely because of your paranoia, my Prince? Or is there a reason you have such extensive notes on the _shopping habits_ of the Temple priests?” Lady Midna interrupted. She sounded sly, slick. Maybe thinking she’d caught him.

“I trusted the last council to keep their shit together and I had to kill half of them when they went fucking insane. My paranoia’s a little justified, no? But—yeah. The priests hold a lot of clout with the people. If they were to start something, they could inspire a rebellion. Like they did eight years ago. That ‘shopping list’ details every rupee they’ve spent in their favorite brothels and on their favorite dealers. They’re corrupt as fuck. Little something to hold over their heads.” Sheik droned, leaning back in his seat. Grandfather shot him a disapproving look, but didn’t make any noise.

“Fucking Three Sheik, what the fuck? What I do with your sister is none of your—“

“Aveil, _quiet.”_ Zelda spoke too late. Midna was grinning like a cat, eyes just as large and wicked as one.

“Anyway, the only thing you won’t have access to when I leave is the dead. They’re my primary source for information, and— _do not try_. A few of them like Malo. They’ll kill the rest of you.”

“But—“

“Grandfather is royal blood. Those in the crypt here are royal blood. They’re special. Everything else will eat you. And if you die, I need to replace you. Do _not_ make me drag my ass back here to replace you.” Sheik growled, not looking away from Midna’s gaze. She looked down, submitting after a moment, and Sheik let himself relax.

“…What makes the kid different?” Ganondorf, _finally_ , spoke up. Not judgmental, though Malo tensed anyway.

“War orphan. Used to bring the bodies to the Shadow Temple. He delivered their own. And food, for the corpses that remained dead.”

“That’s how you met him?” Ganondorf asked again, studying Malo appraisingly. Grandfather patted the kid’s shoulder again, though the boy refused to look up from his own stack of papers.

“How I met any of my contacts isn’t important. They’ll tell you if they want to. Big thing to remember, though—I trade fairly with them. If somebody who I owe comes to you, you better fucking pay them back. You’ll lose all credibility with them if you refuse to repay your debts.”

“We’re supposed to take on your debts as ours, now?” Nabooru wasn’t snarking him, but she did sound irritated. Sheik rolled his eyes.

“If they want to come all the way to Termina, let them. Doubt they will, though.”

“So what exactly am I here for, brother? If we’re not permitted to know what it is this…council will know?” Zelda asked sharply, still looking a little pissed. Sheik shrugged.

“We’ve got a month to train you all. Quiz you to make sure you know what you need to know. Figure out how you two can call council meetings when you want to, and to make sure you know who to ask for what. Also it makes you suffer.” Sheik added, rolling his eyes.

Aveil was still blushing about his notes on her—but _really,_ did she think he didn’t know? And if he knew, who the fuck else knew?

“What’s the biggest threat right now?” Nabooru asked, frowning. She looked down at her notes as she spoke, and a pleased look crossed her face momentarily. She’d always thought he didn’t trust her. That had never been true. She was too rigid, too dismissive of Hylian culture and Hylian politics—she just frustrated him.

She’d fucking _saved him_. Saved Zelda. Saved the whole damn country. She’d been the one to take him to Ganondorf.

“…Right now? Me. This marriage. Leaving the country will put that at rest. Second biggest threat are the militants up by Kakariko. They were Impa’s followers. She doesn’t lead them anymore, but they’re still fanatically devoted to the idea that Zelda is being held captive, and doesn’t even know it. Worst comes to worst and they get ahold of her, they’ll probably kill her if she doesn’t go along with their fantasy.” He'd long since prepped Zelda for that, if it were to happen. Their contingency plans, however, were theirs alone. The fewer people who knew of it the better.

“Wannabe Sheikah, then?” Lady Midna asked curiously.

“No. They’re—members of the old guard. Deserters. Criminals. Impa promised them pardons, salvation. Kakariko protects them because they keep bandits away and their crops safe. If you refuse to join them after they help you and you’re _not_ a local, though…they burn you as a traitor.” Malo spoke up, voice quiet and flat, for the first time. Sheik was proud of the boy, for doing so. He’d gone undercover among their number a year ago. Against Sheik’s express orders. He’d only gotten out by faking his own death. Still had nightmares about it, what he’d seen them do.

“And why are you here, boy? What allegiance do you have to the Crown?”

“None. Doing this prevents _war_. I’m sick of seeing starving kids, orphaned kids, dead families. Fucks raping and pillaging because there’s too few men left to defend villages and towns outside the capital. You might not get that, _Lady_.” The sullen bite to his words obviously surprised her—surprised everyone, judging by their expressions. Big words for a boy little more than a child. Sheik had to hide a smile. Malo had been nervous about the meeting, with so many nobles in the room, but his tone made it clear he wouldn’t cower before them.

“So why not just pick one person? Why all of us?” Aveil finally spoke up. Sheik shrugged.

“There isn’t a single person I think is capable of all the shit I do. And—well, pretty soon everybody is going to know the King has a Spymaster. Nobody will expect it to there to be more than one.” That was entirely the reason. The only people Sheik trusted to replace him were people he cared about. Having multiple people kept them safer than having a single target. Kept his sister safer, too.

“Is that all, then?” Zelda sounded tense, folding her hands in her lap and glaring at him.

“For now. I’ll need you to stay in the capital for the next month. I will meet with you individually later, and we’ll likely call a few more large meetings like this.”

“You told us nothing.” Aveil whined, though she was already pushing her chair back and standing.

“It’s in your fucking papers, read the damn things. Thank you for hosting us, Grandfather, and good night to all of you.” Malo was out the door before Sheik had even finished talking, and everyone else followed him quickly. Lady Midna lingered for a moment, but Ganondorf had not moved at all and she got the hint, leaving the two of them—well, three if Grandfather counted—alone. Zelda’s magic drained away slowly, and Sheik took a deep breath when it was gone.

“…Thank you, Sheik. For this. But do you need to antagonize her so much?” Ganondorf asked, and Sheik shrugged as the Gerudo stood.

“What’s bothering you?”

“I don’t trust the noble. Midna. I agree with Zelda—you shouldn’t have brought her.” As always, Ganondorf kept his tone respectful. He was rather quiet, even at the best of times. Even when he was angry.

“I need somebody who understands Hylian politics. She’ll gather some suspicion, coming out of her self-implied solitude so suddenly, but she’s _ruthless_. Has her own spies here, not that you’d know. She’s dangerous, you’re right. But what she said is true—she’d be killed if anyone but you and Zelda were in power.”

“Why?”

“For the same reason you marrying Zelda kept Hyrule stable enough for you to take over. Marriage is the only valid way of life. Midna’s unmarried—she’s never been married. And her ‘hobby’, as she puts it, is extremely sexual in nature. You tolerate her because Gerudo customs don’t stress marriage, and Zelda tolerates her because she’s damn near the only noble who has never rebelled against her. As long as she can keep her pets—whatever the fuck she calls them—she’ll be loyal.”

“And you wanted to—“ He let out a frustrated hiss, and Ganondorf stopped, looking surprised.

“No. But I would rather take the enemy I _do_ know than the one I don’t! I know fuck all about this Terminian! He could be batshit crazy and I won’t know until I’m fucking _married_ to him.” Ganondorf lifted his hands placatingly, and Sheik kept himself from continuing his tirade. Barely.

Skeletal hands slid around his shoulders and Sheik let out an explosive sigh as Grandfather hugged him.

“Thank you, Grandfather.” The corpse hummed reassuringly, and Sheik rolled his eyes as Ganondorf tried to hide his smirk.

“Get some rest, Sheik. And don’t worry so much. If anything were to happen, it will happen after you’re long gone.”

“Not reassuring.”

“I’m not the one to do the reassuring here.” Ganondorf pointed out, and offered Grandfather a short bow before leaving.

Sheik let out a disgusted sigh, but after a moment he relaxed into Grandfather’s embrace.

“…I’m going to miss you.” The corpse let out a sympathetic huff. The noise was subdued, sad.

Grandfather was the only parent Sheik had ever had. He ruled the royal tombs with an iron fist, and he’d taken the baby left to die in their halls as his own without question. Grandfather had taught him how to speak to the dead, to put them to rest and to care for them. Had taught him to hide, and to survive trapped in the halls of a castle that wanted him dead. Had protected him from his own son’s wrath with a vengeance. Had taken Zelda in too, without blaming her for their father’s sins.

“Will you help Malo, please? He…he’ll need you. Not just with the court.” Sheik’s voice faltered, and he swallowed painfully. Fuck, he hadn’t even let himself dwell on Malo. On Malo’s team—his brother, the kids they’d picked up off the streets. They’d drown without help.

The enormity of what he had to do hit him again. He only had a month and… _fuck_.

Grandfather hissed out a few words, and Sheik sighed.

“Yes. I’ll…sleep. Before I head out. Do you—do you mind if I sleep in the tombs tonight?” He felt like a child, asking. But all this stress—he needed to be someplace he felt secure. To at least give himself that. Sheik was shit at self-care himself, but Grandfather would quite literally hunt him down if he didn’t. Zelda wouldn’t be far behind, either.

Grandfather seemed to cheer up at that, though. Let out another series of barely audible words, telling Sheik that he’d be happy to. That the rest of his relatives would be too.

For the first time all night, Sheik let himself truly relax.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Difference between Ikana dead and Hyrule dead? The Ikana are the same person they were when they were alive, still sentient and intelligent. Hyrule dead are not the same person and are much less intelligent, more instinctual/animalistic (sp?). Except for the dead royal family members, they're ~special~. They remember their past life (but it is a bit fuzzy) and are wickedly intelligent, but they are pretty apathetic about the living. They only like Sheik and Zelda 'cuz Sheik's Sheikah and Zelda is nice to them.


	6. Link is surprisingly okay with lots of dead people

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Link makes some undead friends and goes to find his future husband some stabby tools.

               Kafei had given him leave damn near immediately, probably happy to be rid of Link the last two weeks they had until he had to depart for Hyrule. Link had been expecting a fight over it, and being handed the time off so abruptly had sort of left him reeling. Kafei _never_ gave him time off.

Epona let out a snort and picked up speed, jarring him out of his panic. Oncoming panic.

He’d realized last night that if he was panicking this badly, he couldn’t imagine how panicky his fiancée must be. So he’d asked Kafei what he could do to make him feel safer there, in Termina. In Akkala Citadel, where they would live.

Kafei had asked him what would make _him_ feel safe. Link’s immediate answer had been his sword. So a dagger it was. And because his fiancée was Sheikah and they apparently had a lot to do with the dead, gravebone seemed like the perfect material.

Ikanians were commonplace in Termina, though the recent isolation politics of each race had renewed old fears about them. Once the most powerful people in Termina, they’d been almost wiped out after a great war centuries ago. Those that had survived had mingled with the humans of Termina so long that their blood was too diluted to do anything…though every once in a while someone with enough of it would come back after dying and scare the shit out of their family, or killers, depending on their death. It was uncommon, but not so rare that nobody knew what it was when it happened. Link had seen it once, on a patrol around the Citadel’s far lands. The man’s horse had been spooked shitless by a horde of keese, and he’d fallen down a sheer cliff. _Hard_. And with a broken neck, head twisted awkwardly to the side, he’d climbed back up to them rasping about how stupid his fucking horse was.

Ikanians kept their memory and their personality—their soul, by all accounts—though their flesh rotted away like with any other corpse. They usually retreated to the Ikana canyons while they waited for their bones to emerge. Gravebone was made from excess bone—if the Ikanians didn’t break it off regularly, they would grow too large to move freely in Ikana, or get so thick with the growths they couldn’t move. The stuff was harder than metal when it aged, and incredibly hard to get ahold of.

Chances were he wouldn’t actually be able to find any. That was fine. Link just hoped he’d find someone offering a suitable replacement, because Link was completely out of ideas.

Epona balked at the entrance to the canyons, and Link slid off her back with a sigh. She didn’t like the smell of death that cloyed the canyon so strongly. She was fine with Ikanians, in Link’s experience, but she acted solely on her instincts no matter the cost. Forcing her to ride further into the canyon would likely end in her trampling his corpse. Though she’d probably do it for shits and giggles no matter how he died.

“Go on. Kafei’s expecting you back at the Citadel.” He said softly, stroking her nose. He’d packed light, and his only bag sat at his feet. She rolled her eyes at him and nuzzled his cheek before turning so quickly she smacked him with her tail, and set out.

Ikana wasn’t _that_ far from the Citadel. She’d be back before nightfall, if barely.

“Heading to the market?” The voice startled him, and Link turned to see a skull regarding him curiously from a pile of stone by the edge of the path. Just a skull. No body, and no other bones visible.

“…Do you need help?” He asked hesitantly, taking a step forward.

“Me? Why? _Oh_ , the body. No, I’m fine. It’ll come back eventually. For now I give directions. Do you need any?”

“I’m—no, the market’s just up the path, right?”

“Yup. Across the bridge, too. If you’ve hit the spring, you’ve gone too far.” The skull rasped, empty sockets staring directly at him. It was a little unnerving, if only because the only thing moving was the skull’s jawbone. The top half of it kept lifting every time it spoke, so that its sockets peered down at Link at an awkward angle.

That could _not_ be comfortable, even for a Ikanian.

“Thank you. Are you sure you don’t need anyone? Want me to send someone to check on you, or…is there anything you need?” Link was very uncomfortable with the idea of leaving the skull just lying there. Especially so far out from the market itself—Kafei had told him it’d be an hour walk once he hit the entrance to the canyons.

“ _Welllllll_ …see, there’s these assholes who keep hanging around the entrance to the canyons. Preaching. Would you mind carving the Trickster’s mark into my forehead? Or painting it? Or…anything? I can’t feel it, so don’t worry about that.” That was not what Link was expecting.

“Why would you—yeah, no, I’ve got a knife, but why would you want to carve it in?”

“They’re some doomsday cult. Fierce Deity worshippers. This’ll scare ‘em off.” Link let out a soft noise of understanding at that, and the skull chuckled.

“You want Majora’s Eye, then?”

“You know how to do that?” The skull sounded surprised. Link nodded.

“And a couple other of the Trickster’s runes.” Kafei had taught him how to do them years ago. Asked for his help restoring the Citadel’s shrine after Cole had let it fall into disrepair.

“Oh that’s _wonderful!_ Yes, please. The Eye will work beautifully.”

The Ikanian hadn’t been dead long, Link guessed. The knife he kept in his boot cut easily into its bone, and Link finished quickly.

A single ringed orb stared out of its forehead, surrounded by a pair of horns at the top and a series of alternating triangles along the bottom. It glowed a purple-red for a moment, and the skull started to cackle.

That always made Link uncomfortable, the glow. Knowing the Trickster was staring back at him, acknowledging his efforts. Supposedly it wouldn’t do anything, as long as those it saw were devout, but Link thought it very close to daring Majora to act and that was _not_ a smart idea. Majora’s benevolence only extended so far, even to worshippers.

“This is perfect! Just wait until my body sees this! And those assholes won’t know what hit ‘em!”

“Need anything else?”

“No, and thank you! Thank you very much! Trickster’s blessings to ya, kid!”

“You as well.” Link replied, replacing his knife and hoisting his bag over his shoulder. The skull seemed happy with it, humming to itself now. Link still looked back at it a few times after he set out for the market, worried.

If any real asshole found the skull, immobile and vulnerable without its body…well. He’d let someone know when he got to the market, just to be safe.

The walk up was completely uneventful, though it took Link longer than it should have to get across the bridge. The thing was shit, damn near falling apart. For as well traveled as the way to the Ikana market was—he assumed? He’d never been before, but he’d heard the other men talk about it a lot—it looked like nobody had touched it in years.

Link may have been a trained soldier and fought more than his fair share of monsters, but _fuck_ bridges. Really.

The market turned out to be a series of old buildings bustling with Ikanians, all of them fleshless and bones varying shades of white and yellow. A few Gorons and a few humans were wandering about, but the majority of outside business appeared to be Gerudo and Deku. There were a sizeable number of Zora, too.

He couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the sight. For all the shit he’d heard Cole talk about how afraid the other races were of them, how inferior they were, it was looking like they just didn’t like Cole.

And holy shit his fiancée was going to live with the most racist asshole Link had ever met in his life and—

Nope. He wasn’t going to go there. Dagger first.

He picked buildings at random to enter. The first was an inn. The second was a large barn filled with vendors hawking their merchandise. He got lucky on his third try, and found himself in a bar.

There were no living in the place, besides himself. Ikanians sat around tables at the edges of the room, and a fireplace roared to his right. The back wall had been turned into a bar that spanned its entire length, and a few Ikanians sat at it with mugs. As he watched one slammed back their drink, and Link watched curiously as nothing came spilling out of its bones.

The bartender, busy cleaning a glass with a white rag, looked up when he approached.

“Can I help you?”

“Um—yeah. I’ve got two questions, if you don’t mind.” Link added, and he tried hard to fight back the embarrassed flush that threatened to turn his whole face scarlet. He _hated_ asking people for things. Except for Kafei. The bartender let out a raspy laugh, and set down his glass.

“Watcha got, kid?”

“There’s an Ikanian without a body at the entrance to the canyons? Said they didn’t need any help, but…?” Link trailed off awkwardly, the nape of his neck burning as every Ikanian in the building turned to look at him.

The bartender regarded him for a moment, and then sighed.

“Body’ll come back eventually. Move the skull and it won’t be able to find it, though. Thanks for your concern. What else you need?” Link paused for a moment, letting that bit of information sink in. Was the body sentient too, then? Holy fuck, all he could picture was headless corpses scrambling around Termina now.

“Don’t think too hard, kid. I can see the smoke coming out of your ears.” The bartender chuckled, and Link failed at keeping himself from blushing.

“I—um, I was hoping I could find, or find someone to help me with finding, a gravebone dagger.”

The bartender leaned forward, hands braced on the edge of the bar.

“And what would you want that for?” The question was growled out, the bartender’s tone pure danger and threat.

He had a moment of absolute panic, because _what the fuck had he said wrong holy shit he hadn’t meant to piss them off—_

“I’m—my fiancée’s Sheikah and I just—I want him to feel safe when he gets here and so a weapon obviously but ‘cuz he’s Sheikah and he handles the dead in Hyrule I thought it would help him feel at home—“

“Kid, you’re _human_. How in the Trickster’s name would giving him an _Ikanian_ weapon help him feel at home?”

Fuck, Link wanted to melt from embarrassment.

“He’s from Hyrule, and he’s coming to live in _Termina_. He’ll spend the rest of his life here.” There was a very long silence after he’d finished speaking, and the bartender didn’t move so much as a bone. Link wondered if he’d said something stupid, or misspoken, or not said what he had thought he’d say like he did sometimes when he was drunk or frustrated.

“What’s your name, kid?”

“I—um, Link Sahasrahla. Do you mind if I ask what yours is?”

“Trickter’s tongue boy, you’re meek as a fucking newborn. Name’s Viscen.”

“I just—“

“Listen. We don’t hand out our bone to anybody, catch my drift? It ain’t free, and it ain’t cheap. You’ll need the Duke’s permission if you’re to take any bone out of the canyon. Go speak to Keeta at the Garrison entrance. Tell him I sent you. And if you tell _anybody_ else about this— _anything_ , even if you don’t get any further than Keeta—we’ll cut your tongue out. Confidentiality and all that. Yes?”

Link nodded, mute. _Holy shit_ , they were giving him a chance. He could actually get this.

In time for the wedding, maybe not, but… _he had a chance._

“Yes! Thank you! Thank you very much! I don’t—I didn’t mean any disrespect, I’m very sorry if—“

“Get out of here, kid. Garrison closes early tonight.” Viscen flapped his skeletal fingers at him as he snarled, other hand snatching up the glass he’d been cleaning. Link nodded so hard he winced, and offered the Ikanian a short, quick bow.

“Thank you!” He called again, and scrambled out of the bar as fast as he could. Everyone was still staring at him, and it made him uncomfortable.

Though the market consisted of only a few buildings, he got lost twice before finally asking someone for directions and finding the Garrison.

It was a massive doorway built into the wall of the canyon, and Link sort of faltered to a stop as he approached it. This was the gateway to the depths of the Ikana canyons, where the Ikanians lived. They didn’t allow the living to enter, with rare exceptions. And head resting on arms folded atop the Garrison’s entrance was the largest skeleton Link had ever seen in his life. Larger than a Hinox by far, most of its body was hidden by the Garrison itself.

When he asked for Keeta, said Viscen had sent him, an Ikanian standing at attention in front of the Garrison led him through a small door set into the side of the Garrison’s entrance. It led to a very cramped staircase. The Ikanian told him to get to the top, and closed the door behind him.

The stairs damn near killed him. They were so steep and each step so thin they just barley seemed to exist, and there were _hundreds_. Thousands.

By the time he reached the top, Link was wheezing and about ready to fall over.

The giant skeleton turned to look at him when he stumbled out into the night air—how long had he been climbing!?—and dropped to the stone.

“What are you doing, little Hylian?” The Ikanian sounded amused, watching as Link rolled onto his back.

He flapped a hand, trying to catch his breath, and the Ikanian chuckled.

“Forgive me, little Hylian. I forget the limitations of flesh. I will wait.”

Link had thought he was fit, but the amount of time it took him to recover his breath and stop wheezing like a dying fish proved otherwise.

“Sorry.”

“For what? You obviously didn’t sneak up here, which means you were invited.”

“Viscen…said to ask for Keeta?”

“What do you need me for, little Hylian?” The Ikanian still hadn’t moved, and Link pulled himself to his feet wearily as it spoke.

“I’m getting married to a Sheikah, and I’m looking for a gravebone dagger for him. Viscen said I might not be able to, that’s fine—I don’t mean to intrude on your people’s privacy or anything.” Link was _extremely_ worried he’d upset them, say something she shouldn’t have or do something that would anger them. He was entirely winging it at this point.

The Ikanian studied him for a moment and then let out a sigh.

“What’s your name?”

“Link Sahasrahla. Y—you’re Keeta, right?” Link asked, because _holy shit if this was the wrong guy—_

“Well that explains the Sheikah. Hmm. Tell you what, kid. I’ll give you some bone—won’t need the Duke’s permission if it’s mine—but you’ll work it here. You can leave when it’s done.”

“I’ve got two weeks.”

“Enough time, if you’re determined.” The Ikanian replied, shrugging.

“…Wasn’t the Duke supposed to—“

“You’re that Cole fucker’s nephew, kid.” It was said frankly.

“ _Ooooooh._ I don’t—this is supposed to be a secret anyway. For him. Won’t do much good if everybody knows he has a weapon.” Link said slowly, unsure if he was defending himself or reassuring the Ikanian. But he was telling the truth.

Keeta’s jaws parted into a grin and it laughed.

“You’ll owe us. Owe me. This isn’t something we’ll do for free.”

“If I’m able, of course. What do you want?” Link asked, leaning forward.

Cold fingers pressed on the back of his neck, and he hunched his shoulders at the chill, more shocked by that than the presence of someone else. Keeta’s grin looked positively feral in the near-dark, and a new voice spoke.

“Your silence.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UUUUUUGGGGHHHH GUYS THE FUCKING GARO I FORGOT THE FUCKING GARO I AM FUCKING USELESS  
> IT'S OKAY  
> I FIXED IT
> 
> ANYWAY plz don't let your sinister meters go off the charts yet and sorrynotsorry for the awkward cliffhanger. This chapter is just soooooooo long. I'm really worried I wrote Link out of character (he's just trying really hard to be upbeat and not panic this chapter I dunno if his dialouge got that across or not but oh well) annnnddd I'm exhausted so I'm posting it now. Lemme know if you see any mistakes and I'll fix them.


	7. I'm not crying you are

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ganondorf and Sheik have a heart-to-heart. Literally.

               Sheik’s arms were folded across his chest, eyes hard as he watched the tail end of the Terminian caravan disappear into the castle. It was depressingly gaudy, and frustratingly large. He hadn’t been able to spot his fiancée, though he’d seen the Lord and Lady Akkala flouncing in at the head of the mob.

“Sheik?”

He turned away from the window, sighing. Irene was standing at his bedroom door, already holding the handle.

“His Majesty is waiting outside. Wants to speak to you.” She said quietly, though she was glaring at him. He wasn’t dressed in the Hylian finery she’d laid out on his bed, just a pair of slightly better-than-average servants’ slacks. It was technically her duty to make sure he was ready for the dinner tonight. He was being unprofessional and stupid by refusing to do so, but he refused to admit that.

His fiancée was finally fucking there and he was getting married in the morning and he wasn’t allowed to see him or talk to him. Some bullshit Terminian tradition and Sheik was having none of it.

“If you’re not ready in the hour I’ll tell your sister.”

She opened the door as she spoke, and Ganondorf raised an eyebrow as she stalked past him. He was dressed in the gold and silks traditional for the Gerudo, chest bare and painted with red symbols and patterns.

“…You’re not dressed.”

“I’m not going. I’m going to try and—“

“If you expect this Link to respect _your_ traditions, you will need to respect his.” Ganondorf said simply, closing the door behind him as he stepped into the room. Sheik’s scowl deepened, a low growl escaping him before he could stop himself.

_“Sit.”_ Ganondorf ordered, hands falling onto Sheik’s shoulders and pushing him towards a chair. He obeyed, though he didn’t stop scowling.

The Gerudo stared at him a moment, sighed, and dragged another chair over so that he faced Sheik when he sat down.

They were quiet, and though Sheik usually didn’t have a problem maintaining eye contact for very awkward periods of time, he couldn’t meet Ganondorf’s yellow-gold orbs.

“…I don’t like this. The marriage. Letting you leave.”

Sheik swallowed, forcing himself to look at his brother-in-law.

“Zelda was always different, you know. She’s always wanted to leave. I worried for years that I’d end up killing her, forcing her to stay here. You, though? You’d have stayed in that fucking cell your entire life if I’d asked.”

“…You _still_ don’t realize how much I owe you? Fuck—I’d _still_ do it.” Sheik said softly, seriously. It wasn’t necessarily humility speaking on Ganondorf’s part, simply awkwardness, discomfort. He wasn’t sure how to act about it, Sheik’s devotion. Zelda was not so singular in her loyalty, though she was almost as grateful as Sheik for what the Gerudo had done for them.

The Gerudo sighed again, closing his eyes as he nodded his head.

“I don’t want to sound petty, or as if I don’t mean it when I tell you to do what makes _you_ happy. But I wish you were able to stay here. I don’t know what I’ll do without you here. Worry myself sick about it. I don’t—you’re like a son to me, Sheik. As close as I can imagine a child would be, if he were old enough to be my fucking brother.” Ganondorf added, attempted to alleviate the seriousness of his words. To stop himself from tearing up, Sheik guessed, since the man didn’t really do heart-to-hearts all that often.

“You’re only six years older than I am.” He murmured, though his own eyes were stinging. He didn’t look to him as a father, or even a as a brother. As a king, as a figure that inspired him…was _worthy_ of his loyalty, yes. But family? It seemed so personal, so intimate. And Sheik knew full well he wouldn’t have been able to survive if that intimacy had shattered his perception of Ganondorf, when he was younger. Now…well, it wouldn’t matter now. He was leaving Hyrule for the rest of his life.

“I’ve something I want to give you. Zelda…stole it from me, did her own thing to it I don’t know about. She wanted to be here, but this is a private gift—our wedding gift to you—and she couldn’t get away from her welcoming duties.”

“But you could?”

“One of the perks of dealing with racist fucks.” He responded gravely, though with a smile, and he held out a fist. Sheik eyed him warily, but held out his own hand and took whatever it was Ganondorf was handing him. He was half tempted to tell Ganondorf that letting the Lord and Lady Akkala dictate his appearances was not a smart move on his part, but now was not the time for lectures. And anyway, Nabooru had all the information. She could handle it.

His fingers uncurled from around it slowly, and when Sheik saw what it was he froze.

“We’re not…Zelda and I aren’t going to have any sons, if we have children at all. Koume and Kotake saw that much in our future. Eventually somebody will, though, and it will be your duty to pass it on to them. It’s nothing special, just a trinket, but…you know.”

He couldn’t breathe. Holy _Din_ , Sheik looked up at Ganondorf with wide, round eyes and—

It was a small pendant, about half the size of a green rupee. A Goron-cut ruby shaped like a heart, caged in Gerudo-crafted gold, dangling from a finely braided gold chain. It was tarnished and dull with age, but the heart of the gem still throbbed with a heat that warmed Sheik’s hands.

“What is this?”

“…It’s passed on from son to son. Not in the royal line, mind you, but my family line. My grandmother damn near lost it when the last king lost his shit, started murdering every son born to us. And…I think now is a good time to revive that. Not the murdering, but this. Pure Eldin ruby. Not sure where it comes from, but it’s here, so.” Ganondorf reached forward as he spoke, plucking it from Sheik’s hands and pulling him forward. Sheik didn’t bother resisting, letting him hook it around his neck.

It _burned_ against his chest, though not unpleasantly. The moment it was hung Sheik felt Zelda’s power settle over him like a blanket, so much stored within the gem that it awed him.

They must have been planning this for a _very_ long time. Not just the gift, but the wedding. Zelda realizing he’d be away from her for so long, thinking so far ahead as to lend him her power.

He was, in all honestly, absolutely useless without it in battle. Or any physical fight against anyone well trained, honestly.

“I don’t— _fucking Three_ , you—I can’t—“

“You can, and you will. The last thing I will ever order you to do, Sheik, is _stay safe_. Whatever that takes, I expect you to do so.”

Sheik blinked back tears, leaning into his palms as he let out a shuddering, shivering breath. Ganondorf rubbed his back as he focused on his breathing, struggled to pull himself under control.

“…Even if I have to start a civil war?” Sheik finally asked, cracking a weak smile as he sat up. Ganondorf rolled his eyes, but pulled him into a hug. Sheik pressed into him, feeling small as he did so.

It meant _so much_ , this gift. Not necessarily Ganondorf’s admission of family, but that of caring, of concern. It wasn’t as if he didn’t know already, but…

“Don’t be a smartass.”

With that, he let go of him and stood. Sheik followed suit awkwardly, tugging at his sleeves as Ganondorf turned to the door. He realized with a strange sort of too-late clarity that he still considered Ganondorf something more than mortal, like those fairytale heroes Zelda had been so enraptured with as a child.

“Get dressed. No one is going to talk to you tonight except for Aveil, so stop panicking.” That sucked, Sheik thought, but it was true. Apparently the no-contact tradition extended to the fiancées’ families as well. He couldn’t speak to the Akkala clan—tribe? House? Whatever they were called in Termina—and his family could not speak to Link.

“…Fine.”

Ganondorf clapped his shoulder and closed the door firmly behind him, leaving Sheik alone.

He pressed a hand to the pendant hanging from his neck, and turned to look at the clothes waiting on his bed.

They were the same shade as his eyes. Red, and Gerudo gold embroidered with Hylian imagery. Not his wedding clothes, but still just as fine. A loose robe that left his shoulders bare, hanging just low enough to showcase the necklace Ganondorf had just given him.

He forced his thoughts to trivial things while he stripped out of his disguise and began dressing himself. Showing up with swollen eyes would not go over well, after all.

And if Zelda had arranged this marriage _just so he would wear a matching outfit_ , Sheik was going to kill her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shit guys so I’ve fleshed some more shit out for this story since the first few chapters, I’m super sorry if anybody’s confused. Basically for now the only thing I think I fucked up is that instead of Cole and Dina’s home being a ‘castle’, it’s Akkala Citadel.  
> Also for reference, Zelda’s 22, Sheik’s 24, and Link’s 21. Ganondorf’s thirty, I believe. Somewhere around there.  
> THEY WILL MEET. SOON. I PROMISE. ALSO THINGS WILL BE EXPLAINED.


	8. oh no he's hot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> IT'S WEDDING TIME GUYS

               Link did not like Hyrule, he decided very quickly. Besides the volcanic mountain range constantly looming on the horizon it was an unbroken expanse of grassland. Sometimes buildings and forests broke the monotony, but outside of the Lost Woods nothing really seemed _solid_. It looked like the whole country was about to _break_. And not figuratively, like the abandoned battlefields filled with rusting weapons and bleached bones or ashen ruins of villages, homes, outposts that they passed. But literally, like if Link stepped too hard the whole thing would crack.

Termina had no real plains. It was broken into canyons and cliffs, steep hills and gorges so numerous that horse riding was tantamount to suicide if one didn’t know the paths better than their own flesh. There were swamps with bottomless pools and mountains with craggy slopes, and beaches broken by petrified coral and stone. It, at least, looked _alive_.

Hyrule Castle was no different. It was built less solidly than Akkala Citadel, far more open and airy than common sense should have permitted—defense, obviously, had not been the main goal here. The path that led up to it was long and winding, crossing over multiple moats and rivers, but it still sat like a symbol of beauty and grace rather than strength.

His room was the same, with one wall opening directly onto a balcony. There were folded wooden screens resting against the far wall, and curtains bunched at each of the three curved entrances to the balcony itself, but the wind and sunlight blew right into his room. And his room was _huge_. And it wasn’t even the wedding chambers—he and his fiancée would retire to a completely different chamber after their marriage. That night.

He sank down onto the bed resting in the center of the room—it was pretty much the only furniture there, besides an ornate wardrobe, a vanity, and a pair of tables and matching chairs scattered about.

As if being completely naked in a room _missing an entire fucking wall_ wasn’t enough to make him want to scream, _he was getting married in a few hours._

His leg bounced erratically while he snatched up an overly-fancy braided ribbon, blue and gold threads twisted around clear glass beads, and pulled his still-wet hair back into a ponytail.

He’d begged Osfala and Groose to speak to their parents, and convince them to let him wear something _not_ ridiculous. It had been moderately successful. He’d been given a fancy pair of trousers and an even fancier tunic, with a gold-blue belt that matched his hair tie. A pair of dark brown leather boots and simple matching bracers finished the outfit, and those at least were sturdy and built for practicality as well as style. It was the nicest, most expensive outfit he had ever owned.

He would wear a ceremonial short sword at his hip—and when Kafei had said it was ceremonial, he’d _meant_ it was ceremonial. The thing was made entirely of glass, every inch of its insides stained in the Trickster’s colors with painted golden runes and pictures along its entire length. Kafei had given it to him, told him it would watch over him and represent their gods at a wedding primarily thanking the Hylian gods for…everything.

Nobody else seemed all that nervous, but Link was pretty concerned about Majora getting pissed and—well, he didn’t know. Setting them all on fire? Turning them into turtles? Or bokoblins. Something. They’d all heard the stories, even if Link was sure most of them were meant as warnings against marrying Hylians only because they were Hylian.

He’d have to talk to his soon-to-be husband after the ceremony. Maybe they could do a ceremony on their own, just to cover all their bases. There were no guidelines concerning marriage—or anything really, besides paying the Trickster attention like a spoiled child—but as long as they tried, Link hoped it would suffice.

He sighed and rubbed his face with his hands. He was thinking too much, working himself into an anxious mess before anything had even happened. He had to stop.

He grabbed his trousers and stood, shaking them a little before lifting a foot to put them on. And promptly realized there was a woman leaning against the door to his room, arms folded across her chest.

“ _Holy—“_

“You’re Link, yes?” She asked, tilting her head to the side.

“What are you—“ He was still naked. He scrambled to get them on, promptly fell onto his ass and figured he might as well just lay there until she said her piece. His nakedness didn’t seem to bother her, and she was clearly there without his aunt’s permission or he’d have heard a commotion outside. Meaning she’d snuck in.

“…Hylia’s tits boy, you’re a moron. Stand up. Don’t wrinkle those.”

She was all business when she grabbed his arms, helping him up and taking his pants from him. She was dressed like a maid, blue hair pulled into a tight bun and tunic so straight it came down past her knees. Blue-green eyes studied him sharply and red hoops pierced her ears, glinting sharply in the morning light.

“…Thanks?”

“Sheik asked me to warn you. He had a letter, but nobody trusted you to burn it and we frankly don’t have time to find out if you can read. I’ll help you dress while you listen. So _pay attention_.”

She tugged at his hair as she spoke, hard enough to make him wince, but he obeyed her commands while she started helping him dress. He hadn’t realized how many straps and belts were on the clothes until she began undoing them.

He’d been allowed to wash himself but only after outright refusing to get in the baths until the servants left. But maybe he shouldn’t have insisted he could get this on himself. If she wasn’t helping him he’d probably be strangling himself with one of the straps.

“I don’t—“ He should stop talking. She was completely ignoring him anyway.

“You are marrying the last Sheikah in Hyrule. He has obligations and duties to the Shadow Temple and the dead who reside in its halls. You are taking him away from that. They will not like you. A large chunk of the ceremony will be dedicated to appeasing them, in making an offering of blood to its representative. That representative is the Princess’ and Sheik’s grandfather. He is a walking corpse.”

“Like an Ikanian? I thought your dead didn’t—that they weren’t smart, though.”

She stopped, halfway through tightening the legs on his trousers, and stared at him until he blushed and looked away.

“Don’t let them hear you say that. The Royal Family is different—their dead are sentient. But yes, like an Ikanian. If you show fear or flinch, he will consider you unworthy and that will not end well. If you refuse to give anything he asks to the Temple, that will not end well. Feel free to substitute your gods’ names for our own, however, at any part during the ceremony. Much of it will be repeating the priests’ words, which have not been tailored for your own beliefs as there was no time to sit you down and ask you, what with your stupid tradition and all.” Fair enough. He’d been disappointed in that too. Terminian traditions had evolve through culture, not religion, so most of them were optional. Cole had chosen to enforce it because he was a racist dick. Though Link would have asked for it, for at least the day of their wedding, simply because of the fear of Majora’s Wrath. Kafei had scared him shitless about it, after he’d returned from the canyons. And Kafei’d only had about an hour to do so before they’d left for Hyrule, which spoke volumes for what exactly he’d described as worst-case scenarios.

“What’s your name?” He asked after a beat of silence, as she pulled his tunic on over his head.

“Irene. I am Sheik’s caretaker.”

“Like, servant?”

“No. His Majesty has enlisted me to make sure he takes care of himself while he works, and to make sure he attends functions where his presence is required. He has a habit of ignoring the hemming and hawing part of politics and dive straight into the nasty bits. Now—if you don’t mind—I have a question for you.”

“Um, yeah. I don’t—go ahead.”

“Why are you trying to sneak a dagger into your wedding ceremony?” As she spoke she waved the weapon at him, and Link’s eyes went wide as he grabbed for it. He’d forgotten he’d stuffed it under his tunic.

“Don’t—careful with that! It’s—I know I’m not supposed to be armed, okay! But it’s for him! I want to—it’s a gift. You can—there’s magic on it anyway, and so it’s only sharp when he uses it.”

She drew back, when he reached for it again. She didn’t look angry, or all that suspicious, but her expression was dangerously blank.

“Where’d you get that kind of power?”

“I—it isn’t mine. It was a gift. It’s—look I had people make sure it was alright and it isn’t cursed or anything I _swear_.”

“You’re giving the person _I am charged with keeping safe_ a deadly weapon _on your wedding day_ and you expect me to trust you, a complete and utter stranger, with that? You’re either _stupid_ or you’re so concerned about his safety in Termina that you think a _literal weapon_ is the only way to comfort him!”

“N—No! I—no! I just—I want him to feel safe and _that’s_ what makes _me_ feel safe!” He jabbed a finger behind her, at where his own sword leaned against the far wall. She glanced at it, and frowned.

Then she gave him the most disgusted look he had ever seen on a living person, and handed him back the dagger.

He froze, unsure why she’d suddenly given it back, given in.

“Put your arms out and do not move them. I will finish dressing you, and I will hide that in your boot when I am done. If he ends up dead—and this is not just me threatening you, keep in mind, but _literally_ an entire country living and dead—it will be on _your_ head.”

His anxiety was returning. These Hylians were so fucking _serious_ , like he was taking the most precious thing they had and running off with it. And he might be, considering how important his fiancée seemed to be to the Queen, but…it wasn’t helping.

The man who’d spelled the dagger, who’d helped him forge the thing after his first few failed attempts, had done the same thing. Told him to protect Sheik with his life and to not say a word of what had happened in the canyons to anyone or anything.

Link intended to do so. Except for the not telling anyone about it. He would tell Sheik. Starting their marriage off with lies and omissions was _not_ a good omen.

Trickster’s Blood, he wanted to talk to Sheik so badly it hurt. Wanted to get to know the man he was marrying, the man he was already promising to protect over his own life. _That_ would make him less nervous, would calm him down.

“Sit. No, not on the ground you moron! In the chair! I’m going to fix your hair. You must have some Garo in you, no? Otherwise you’d need a shave, and you’d be out of luck. Sheik didn’t inherit that particular trait, thank the Three, and I have no idea how to do it.” Irene’s tone became more conversational the more she talked. That helped ease his nerves, if only a little. He didn’t want to ask her about Sheik, though he was sure she’d answer his questions. He was about to marry the man, and by nightfall he’d have met him. He’d waited this long, he could wait a little longer to hear it straight from the man’s mouth.

Maybe she knew that, or sensed it, because she didn’t say another word besides to order him to move around as she finished dressing him. The final result was a little more Hylian in style than probably appropriate, but Link was alright with that. She painted two short, fat black triangles under his eyes—to honor the Trickster, she said when he asked—but besides that let him be. He was happy with it, especially since she seemed to take the Trickster so seriously despite her dismissive words earlier.

And then his door opened, and Dina swept in. She froze when she saw them, Link standing patiently in front of a chair, Irene standing on it as she made sure his hair wouldn’t move.

Nobody said anything and he could only blink at his aunt.

He was in _trouble._

“One last word of advice, Lord Link? Don’t use titles when speaking to Sheik. _Definitely_ use them when addressing Their Majesties, though.” She murmured, leaning close so that Dina couldn’t hear. And then she hopped off the chair, smiled and offered Dina a short bow, and left.

“Who was that? What do you think you are doing?!” She hissed, once Irene was gone. Link swallowed hard, half expecting his aunt to lunge at him.

“She was helping me get ready. He sent her.”

“I explicitly told our soldiers to keep _everyone_ out of your rooms!” At her words a helmeted head peeked past the doorframe, an apologetic look plastered all over Sakon’s face.

“Sorry, Vice-Captain. Didn’t see her.”

“She’s in the service of a Sheikah. Of course you didn’t.” Link said simply, swallowing hard as he drew himself up.

His anxiety had settled on a few key issues over the past month, and chief among them was his powerlessness, the extent his aunt and uncle could control him. When it was just himself, it was fine—it was easier for him to just do what they wanted. But forcing his soon-to-be husband to endure the same thing was unthinkable. So Link would have to fight for him.

Kafei had helped. He’d appointed him Vice-Captain, second in command of Akkala Citadel’s troops and defenses, just before they’d left. There hadn’t been a ceremony or anything, but the men had all been informed. And they’d taken it so well it still shocked Link. Made him wonder if they’d known for a while.

That responsibility gave him the courage he needed, now, to protect Irene. And Sakon. Dina would want his head on a pike for this, however harmless his failure had been. And if he didn’t start testing her now, he wasn’t sure he ever would.

“ _Excuse me?_ ” Dina sucked in a sharp breath after she gasped, likely to begin one of her infamous tirades, and Link stepped forward.

“Nothing of note happened, Aunt. This was not something my men were trained to expect. I won’t punish them for being unable to foresee something you and I couldn’t either.”

She seemed more shocked than anything else, so much so that she allowed him to take her arm and guide her out of the room.

Inwardly he screamed, because _he was dead when this was over Trickster’s blood she was going to kill him so many times after this—_

The dagger pressed comfortingly against his calf as he walked, hidden in his boot.

“We’ll be late for the ceremony if we don’t leave now. Sakon, you are relieved of your guard duties. Have Bolson take over for you.” Bolson was standing guard at his aunt and uncle’s door just down the hall, and the man preened as he stepped towards Sakon. The younger guard looked as if he wanted to protest, but only for a moment.

“Yes sir.”

His aunt seemed mollified at Sakon’s dismissal, though she gripped his arm so tightly her nails dug through his sleeves.

“You look presentable. A little more Hylian than appropriate, but there’s not much we can do about that now. You will be respectful to the Sheikah, do you understand? At least until we’ve gained Hyrule’s support and stamped out those savages. Afterwards you can do whatever you’d like.” She spoke too quietly to be overheard, forcing Link to lean awkwardly to the side as they walked.

“Yes, Aunt.” He kept his tone respectful, though he chewed the inside of his cheek as they walked. She led the way—he’d no idea where they were going. All he knew was that both the ceremony and the celebration afterwards were open to the public, on his fiancee’s orders, so it would probably be a large room.

“Good. No mistakes, Link.” It was a mantra he had heard often from her as a child, so often he’d almost stopped talking entirely for fear of saying something wrong. After he’d joined the Guard, she had only stopped because she hadn’t bothered with him as much. He’d been busy and he’d finally been out of her sight, and it kept him _far_ from politics.

They turned a corner and a pair of guards fell in step at their sides, one Gerudo and one Hylian. The Gerudo inclined her head respectfully, though she eyed him coolly before speaking.

“Follow us. Speak only when spoken too during the ceremony. Sheik will be presented differently than you will. Your aunt and uncle will walk you down and then move to the seats reserved for them. Ganondorf, Zelda, and Sheik’s Grandfather will remain at the altar with the two of you and the priest. That’s about the only concession we could make for your traditions during the ceremony itself, I’m afraid.” Though she still looked at him distastefully, her apologetic tone was sincere. Dina, for once, held her tongue—though she looked about ready to burst a vein. She’d take it as an insult, as would Cole.

“I appreciate it. Not that we have much in the way of wedding traditions, this time of year.”

A real smirk crossed Nabooru’s lips, and she shrugged.

“The Council would not allow the delay, else we would have waited until your Carnival.  Been a good excuse to get Sheik piss drunk, too.” Link’s eyes went wide, and his aunt gripped his arm tighter as she stifled a sharp gasp, but the Gerudo woman was smiling, not paying attention as she shook her head ruefully.

Nobody spoke of him with titles, Link realized. It was all casual, informal. On request, if Irene was to be believed.

That gave him hope. One of the other things that had been stressing him out was the status thing—Sheik being a prince, and he being not much more than a soldier. But if he insisted on being spoken to like a normal person, then he couldn’t be that hung up on it. Right?

“Well, look at it this way—not that many weddings for your people this time of year. It’s _special_.” She drawled the word out, smirking again, though as they turned another corner she waved at them to slow down. Link cast a curious glance at the Hylian guard, but the woman said nothing and didn’t look at him.

The next corner they turned revealed Cole standing with a few more guards in front of an arched doorway, sunlight pouring in through the gauzy white-and-blue curtains covering it. He perked up when he saw them, irritation sliding off his face and his usual mask of arrogance settling in its place. Link swallowed hard, but let go of his aunt. She linked arms with Cole and the Gerudo guided him behind them.

“Count to three, after they enter. Then go in.” She patted his back before striding off, the Hylian guard who had come with her at her heels.

It struck Link very suddenly that _this was actually happening_ , and then his aunt and uncle stepped forward, through the curtains, and a guard was nudging him forward, and just as suddenly as they’d disappeared, he was too.

The room was not as light and airy as the doorway made it seem. It was a large, pentagon-shaped room with no ceiling. Pillars of dark stone arched in a second, smaller pentagon in the middle of the room, each pillar boasting a second arc that attached to the wall. Gauzy lengths of cloth in turquoise and ruby hung from the arches, twined and spiraled around the pillars. Four paths led to the pentagon in the center of the room, two laid out with red cloth and the other two with blue. Between the paths were bunched more people than Link had ever seen before in his life.

In the center stood a simple white basin perched on a golden stand, and blue flames licked out of it eagerly. A Hylian, barefoot and in a simple white robe, stood behind it. On one side of the priest stood a hulking mass of muscle clad in the traditional orange-gold Gerudo garb. On the other stood a petite Hylian woman wearing a simple blue-gold dress, though the shade of blue she wore was navy and not turquoise, like the rest of the room. The King and Queen of Hyrule.

Already waiting at the altar stood a man that could only be Sheik Nohansen, and the sight of him almost made Link’s steps falter.

_Majora’s Blood_ he was handsome. A little shorter than Link was, but thin and toned. His skin was pale, eyes the color of blood, and his hair was a blonde so light it shimmered almost white in the sunlight. He wore it long, loose with a few thin braids woven with glittering ruby ribbons, and his bangs swept over one of his brilliant orbs. Kohl outlined his eyes, made them darker and sharper than they would have been, and his face was angular and cool. He wore red bandages around his arms, and they peeked out of the cut of his sleeveless shirt. It was tucked in at the waist, a golden sash snug around his hips. His ears were slender and pointed, pierced with bits of metal and gem, and though he regarded Link just as intently back, there was a bite of unease, suspicion in his eyes that Link couldn’t miss.

And behind him stood a mummified corpse, eyes literally glowing scarlet as it stared at him. It was bare, save for what was clearly a hastily tied on sash around its waist, emblazoned with a stylized eye shedding a single tear. Its hands rested on Sheik’s shoulders.

And suddenly Link was there, taking his place in front of his almost-husband. He offered a short bow to the priest and those flanking him, and then turned to face Sheik.

It was so quiet that he could hear his own breathing. No one made a sound.

And then the priest began speaking.


	9. oh no he's hot pt 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> THEY ACTUALLY GET MARRIED THIS TIME

               “We are here to bear witness to the union between Prince Sheik Nohansen of Hyrule and Sir Link Sahasrahla of Termina. We meet beneath the eyes of the Three and their Favored this day, and thank them for their generosity.” The priest intoned, lifting his hands to the sun beating down on them, and Sheik tried not to sigh at the man’s passive-aggressive slight. Grandfather certainly noticed, and the tight grip on his shoulders got even tighter.

It was a cheap way out of acknowledging Demise, to simply use the word Favored. While it _could_ , technically, refer to both Hylia and Demise, it was primarily used when speaking of Hylia. And while that would have pissed Grandfather off under normal circumstances, the corpse was absolutely _livid_ now.

Sheik came from a long line of Sheikah devoted to the worship of the Great Darkness himself. Some ancestor had entered Demise’s realm to speak to him, and he’d killed her. Her children had followed in her footsteps and so on and so forth until eventually Demise stopped hating the company and had taken a liking to them. Grandfather especially. So right now, Grandfather’s blue eyes were lit red as Demise himself peered out at the crowd, stopping occasionally to glare at the Terminian standing awkwardly in front of them.

Sheik had, in the absolute chaos following Zelda’s announcement, forgotten to pray all month. Which meant Demise hadn’t found out Sheik was leaving Hyrule until that morning, when Grandfather had let him possess him.

Which meant he would have to explain all of that to his…about-to-be husband, lest Demise strike him down where he stood.

And Sheik wasn’t sure what to make of Link, wasn’t sure if he could trust him with that. Even Zelda didn’t know, though he was sure she knew something was up.

Link carried himself like a warrior, though his blue eyes were wide with awe, and he kept glancing from Sheik to the room around them. He looked distinctly boyish, younger than his age, especially with his hair pulled back into a stubby ponytail and bangs framing his tan face. A silvery scar traced the corner of his mouth, a second gracing his right temple. A glass sword hung at his hip, laced with every color of the rainbow, but it didn’t stick out as garishly as Sheik would have expected it too. The blues in it matched the turquoise of his tunic, and the gold etching matched the glittering threads woven into his outfit.

He was handsome, in a distinctly pretty way. He looked _soft_ —not physically because he was _all_ muscle and Sheik very much appreciated that—but in how naive he seemed. How innocent. Maybe it was just how cheerful his demeanor seemed, though.

He kept meeting Sheik’s gaze and offering small, quick smiles. And when he’d first stepped up to the altar, he’d lifted his hands from his sides, palms open and facing Sheik. Perhaps instinctively, but the message had been clear—whether he was armed with a glass stick or not, he wasn’t going to attack. It was a courtesy he hadn’t been expecting, and Sheik wasn’t sure what to feel about that. He’d spent the last month preparing himself for the worst, refusing to get his hopes up, and being presented with what was obviously _not_ a worst case scenario had left him reeling.

“And while we stand united in the grace of the Three, we must also not forget those who have already passed into the Sacred Realm and the duties some of us bear to them.” They were getting the unpleasant bits out of the way first, it appeared. That seemed to please those behind him, if only partially.

Grandfather’s hands slipped from his shoulders, and the corpse very casually moved over to the altar, forcing the priest to back up. Mummified fingers passed over the blue flames, and they darkened, curled as the scent of burning wood and scorching sun began to fill the room. When they were black, Grandfather’s hand dropped, apparently satisfied.

_“You stand….prepared to take the hand…of the last of the Sheikah.”_ Grandfather didn’t _speak_ , not usually. This was Demise, forcing wheezing, rasping air through fleshless lips. It may not have been possible, but it was happening. Judging by the restless shifting of both the crowd and the priest, the sound made them uncomfortable. Or maybe it was just the corpse’s presence.

Sheik met Link’s eyes once more, and he flicked his gaze sharply towards Grandfather, hoping the Terminian would catch the cue.

Link sucked in a sharp breath, but seemed to understand, and he gave a short, quick bow.

“Yes.”

“ _…This is not a…lifelong commitment. This is…eternal. Binding. You stand here…to take the duties…of protecting what we…will no longer be able to. His death…will be yours. His wounds…will be yours. His grief…will be yours. You will….ensure he completes…his duties to us. And that we…do not need…to make you.”_

The air grew colder around them, enough to turn Sheik’s breath to frost.

“I understand.” Link answered readily, solemnly. He didn’t shiver at the cold.

“ _You will…honor the dead.”_

“Yes.”

_“It will be…your duty…to return him to us. And…your duty to…lie with him in…the Shadow Temple.”_

Link didn’t answer that verbally, but he nodded, expression grave and serious. Grandfather took a moment, and his eyes purpled slightly. Clearly Grandfather was satisfied. Demise wasn’t, though.

“ _What…can you offer…in return for...what you take…from us?”_

Well, shit. Zelda’s eyes narrowed as she tilted her head to look at Grandfather, and Ganondorf just kind of went still, staring straight ahead. It wasn’t what Grandfather was _supposed_ to ask. Though the entire thing was, on Link’s part, improvised anyway, they had had a general idea going into things. This was not it.

But improvise Link did.

He hesitated a moment, looked at Sheik again, and then forced a quick smile.

“I offer an oath sworn in the red of my lifeblood, and a promise invoking Majora’s own Wrath should I fail, that I will do everything in my power to protect and honor both your people and the man whose hand I take tonight. In life and in death.”

Sheik’s heart stopped beating entirely, as he watched the man he was about to marry lift his ornamental sword up and slash his own palm, letting the dark liquid stream down and into the bowl harboring Demise’s black flames. The fire leapt up, enveloped his hand the moment his blood hit the embers, but he didn’t make a sound as they seared at his flesh.

He couldn’t breathe.

Sheik made eye contact with Grandfather—with the god hiding inside him—and Demise flashed him an approving look.

_Nayru’s Tears—_

_“We find this acceptable.”_

It was so cold that living hurt, for an instant.

And then the flames disappeared, vanished without warning, and Link lowered a hand marked only by a thick black scar as Grandfather’s eyes returned to the blue Sheik knew so well. He winced then, flexed his hand a few times as he returned the glass sword to its place and lowered his arm.

_He hadn’t even though twice about that_ , Sheik realized, sucking in a sharp gasp of air.

Blue light began to flicker weakly within the bowl, though it didn’t grow any stronger until Grandfather had taken his place behind Sheik.

The priest was pale, shaking, when he finally stepped into the space Grandfather had vacated. He skipped any more monologuing, jumped right to the vows, and Sheik could barely hear him. He was staring at Link, unable to fully believe what he’d just seen.

“I call forth two witnesses on Prince Nohansen’s behalf. Who now speaks with the authority to give him away?”

Ganondorf rolled his eyes, but took a step forward.

“I do.”

“Who are you?”

“Ganondorf Dragmire….King of Hyrule, Son of Din and Lord of the Sands.” Ganondorf’s reluctance to add his titles was obvious, but the priest’s expectant gaze pulled them out quickly.

“Who is the Prince to you?”

“My ward, my brother by marriage, and my friend.” Ganondorf didn’t sound as awkward as Sheik knew he felt. He spoke clearly, voice booming and deep.

“And do you accept the proposal set forward by Sir Link Sahasrahla?”

“I do.”

“Do you give your blessing to the union between these two men?” The priest was gaining confidence the longer he talked, hands moving theatrically as he gestured at the two of them.

Ganondorf looked at the both of them for a moment before stepping between them and pulling out a cylindrical case attached to his hip. The wax sealing it shut cracked audibly, but it opened easily. Ganondorf turned so that he faced Sheik, and Sheik watched with growing concern as Ganondorf held the case above Sheik’s head. This had also not been part of the plan, as far as Sheik knew, and though he trusted Ganondorf he _hated_ surprises.

“I could not bring you to the desert, so I brought the desert to you. Each grain of sand I give you contains my blessings, and those of my sisters. The sand may disappear, but these blessing will not—carry them with you, and know we will always be your family.”

Sheik held still, closing his eyes as Ganondorf began to pour the sand out. Like everything involved in the ceremony, it too held magic, and it burned hot as the desert sun as it slithered through his hair and into his clothes.

“A grain for each of them?” He couldn’t help but ask, voice low enough to only be heard by those at the altar. Ganondorf smirked.

“Close enough.” He replied, just as quietly, and then he turned his back to Sheik and faced Link. He poured the rest of the sand onto Link, who also closed his eyes. When it was gone Ganondorf reattached it at his hip, and then put both of his hands on Link’s shoulders—he absolutely dwarfed the Terminian.

“If you hurt so much as a hair on his head I _will_ know.” Ganondorf murmured, voice so low Sheik could barely hear him as he leaned into Link’s ear. Though he didn’t make an actual threat the promise of violence was clear in his tone. Link didn’t so much as pale, though he did nod.

And then Ganondorf pulled back, flashed Sheik a smirk, and returned to his place.

Sheik started praying under his breath, though Grandfather just let out a raspy laugh.

“Who now will step forward to speak on the Prince’s behalf?” The priest asked, lifting his head high and barely restraining himself from snarling at Ganondorf.

“I will.” It was Zelda’s turn to speak, and her voice was smooth as she stepped forward. She took the place Ganondorf had vacated between he and Link.

“Who is he to you?”

“He is my brother.” She sounded regal, calm and every bit the Queen she was, but she still reached out and took Sheik’s hands in hers, squeezing them reassuringly. His stream of prayers faltered, stopped.

“Do you swear to speak honestly, lest the Three strike you down where you stand?”

“I do.”

“Can you speak for the Prince, then, that he enters this union freely and of his own volition? That he does so uncoerced and honestly in the light of the Three and their Favored?”

Zelda smiled disarmingly at the priest, and closed her eyes.

“I swear it so in the name of Din and Her sacred flames, Farore and Her sacred winds, and Nayru and her sacred waters. I swear it so by the blood of Hylia that runs through our veins—and by Demise’s true name.” She spoke, voice echoing through the chamber.

Again, the crowd shivered in discomfort at the mention of Demise, but Sheik couldn’t help the broad smile that stretched across his face.

Zelda didn’t know—at least, he’d never told her and neither had Grandfather. But she knew it was important, and was risking backlash even speaking his name. All for him.

She gave his hands another squeeze before letting go.

“Do you, Link Sahasrahla, come here freely and of your own will? Do you enter this union uncoerced and honestly?”

Link cleared his throat awkwardly before nodding, though it took a look from Zelda to get him to speak.

“Yes.”

“Then let us begin the vows.”

_Oh thank the fucking Three_ , it was about time. Zelda smiled at Link, reached out and held his hands for a moment too before returning to her spot. Link smiled, rolled his eyes as he shifted and gave the priest his full attention. The priest motioned for them to step forward and they did, Sheik lifting his right hand and holding it out over the flames on the altar. Link copied him after a moment, though he lifted his left, and Sheik grabbed his hand.

They had already covered most of the traditional matter the vows usually spoke of, albeit in a roundabout way. They _should_ be almost done with the ceremony. Hylians liked them long and boring, Gerudo liked them short and literally nonexistent, and the dead didn’t want one at all. Mashing the ceremony into the compromise it had turned out to be had pissed off everyone, and Sheik was still concerned the priest would start monologuing about the gods again, or the sacredness of the union, or something equally stupid just to spite the Gerudo.

“Repeat after me, both of you.” He murmured instead, and Sheik let some of his anxiety slip away. Link nodded, gave Sheik’s hand a gentle squeeze.

“With this hand I take you—“

Sheik spoke quietly as he repeated the priest—his vows were for his partner and his partner alone—but Link’s voice rang out clearly through the room.

“—as partner and friend, from this moment until my last.”

“I will give you my all and you will give me yours…”

“…my love, my devotion, and my heart.”

“Should you ever stumble I will lift you up, should you ever falter I will help you on.”

“Any hardship, any burden of yours I will bear as well, any joy I have I will share.”

“I will wipe away your grief and honor your commitments, light your path and always bring you home—“

“Until time’s end—I am yours.”

The priest motioned for them to move forward and Sheik tilted his head back, raising an eyebrow expectantly at the Terminian. His face flushed crimson, but he stepped forward and reached out with his right hand—their clasped hands remaining over the flames, which had grown taller and taller as they recited their vows. His touch was gentle, barely there when he cupped Sheik’s cheek, and his kiss was warm, shy and hesitant.

“May I present Prince Sheik Nohansen, and Lord Link Nohansen of Termina!” The priest shouted, and the crowd roared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It occurs to me that I’ve spelt volition wrong my entire life guys holy shit.  
> ANYWAY THEY MET THEY MARRIED ITS ALL GOOD NOW RIGHT  
> Sorry for the part with the vows I wasn’t repeating every line of dialogue three fucking times I hope it makes/made sense? Lemme know if not lol. Also yay this taught me there’s no way in hell im writing my own vows guys fucking google all the way.  
> Next ~2 chapters will be about the after party lol, and then it's ON TO TERMINA.


	10. link has a type guys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Link meets some people, learns some family history, and talks to his husband.  
> Alternatively, Sheik is Old.

               They were ushered back into the palace immediately after the ceremony, and taken to what Link assumed was a waiting room—plush couches and elegant tables littered the floor, though this room had no windows like his own had. And then the door was closed behind them, leaving him alone. With his husband.

His _husband_.

“…So…I don’t think we’ve been formally introduced yet.” Link said awkwardly, trying not to blush when those ruby orbs turned to look at him.

Sheik smirked.

“Sheik Nohansen, Prince of Hyrule, Lord of the Shadow Temple, Blade-Sworn Brother of the Sands, last of the Sheikah, bastard and Chief Corpse-Fucker, if you believe the rumors.” He said lightly.

It took a lot longer than it should have, to process that, and then he couldn’t help but blush.

“I—Link. Vice-Captain of Akkala Citadel.”

“Impressive.” The smirk stayed in place, widened as his husband swayed over to a couch as red as his eyes and dropped onto it. He patted the seat beside him almost lazily, and after a brief hesitation, Link followed.

“How come I have—why’d they change _my_ name, not yours?”

Sheik’s eyes hadn’t left him once, not since he’d first spoken, and Link tried hard not to meet his gaze. It was _awkward_ , especially because Sheik wasn’t blinking.

“The perks of marrying a child. Age before beauty, no? And…well, I’m personally not a fan of so much alliteration in a name.” Link’s face felt like it was on fire, though Sheik was finally looking away from him.

“I’m an adult.”

“Just don’t take any of the jokes seriously.” Sheik spoke after a pause, shaking his head as he smiled.

They lapsed into silence after that, and Link gave up pretending that he wasn’t staring.

“I can’t…I am as much a ward of my aunt and uncle as you are of your king. I don’t have my inheritance. When we get to Termina you’ll live at the Citadel. I can’t… _stop_ them. From doing that. From trying to use you. I’ll do what I can but I’m…I’ve asked Osfala to back off, he’ll do what he can, but there’s no stopping Cole. Or Dina.”

Sheik looked at him strangely, then, and he opened his mouth to speak, but Link cut him off.

“I can’t imagine how terrifying that must be. And I want you to feel safe there, despite that. I hope that one day it feels like home. So I have—I have a gift for you. It’s…I know I’m not _supposed_ to have it, but—that lady, Irene, didn’t take it away from me so I figured it was alright.” Link spoke quickly, and he was _so_ much more nervous then, than he had been during the ceremony. He reached down and worked the blade out of his boot, before handing it to his husband.

Sheik was staring at him, eyes wider than they’d been before but expression absolutely unreadable.

“I know nothing about the Sheikah. Or Hyrule. But Kafei—my Captain, he’s my best friend—he told me a little bit. It…I know our dead aren’t like yours, but I figured something from Ikana would be fitting. It’s gravebone. Sharper than any metal and stronger, too. It’s—it’s still kind of soft right now, because it’s new, but it’ll get harder as it ages. I’ve seen it cut through stone before, when it gets really old. And—there was a Garo there, who spelled it for me. For you. It’s—it’ll only be sharp when you use it. He helped me forge it, so that it’s…good.” Link faltered to a stop there. Sheik had barely looked at the weapon, was just looking at him. A heavy quiet fell over them, and Link shifted nervously until Sheik spoke.

“That’s…sweet. Thank you, for it. But this Garo—why the _fuck_ would he help you, or me?” Link blinked, startled, and his husband shrugged.

“It’s alarming that a complete and utter stranger would use _magic_ , especially magic _this_ particular, to help me. I assume you had someone look at it?”

“O—yeah, of course. Kafei, and a few people he trusted. The magic isn’t particular to you yet. You’re supposed to bleed on it, then it’ll settle in. I think—he said you’d be in danger in Termina. Wouldn’t talk about it to me. He was an exile—cast out from the tribes. The Ikanians were harboring him, told me they’d kill me if I told anybody. I don’t think _lying_ is a good way to start off a marriage, though. So just—please. You can go speak to him if you’d like, when we get ho…to Termina.”

Sheik’s expression pinched, but he lifted a hand and slashed the blade across his palm in an instant. The blood that welled up in the cut dissipated, turned to red light that filtered up, into the dagger, and after a moment it all disappeared—there was no cut on his hand, no glow on the weapon.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine. The spell was…true. Not a trick. Thank you, again. This is…it means a lot.” As he spoke he hid the blade in his robes—where Link had no clue—and looked up, and then _smiled_. A real smile, the first smile he’d seen on him, and Link’s breath caught in his throat.

Majora’s _blood_ he was handsome.

“…Can I ask what we’re doing in this room, anyway?”

Sheik rolled his eyes, reclining and stretching his arms out in front of him.

“Private gifts, well-wishers, will come in and say their piece. Mostly nobles and important folk you’ll never see again. Anyone who wants to curry favor with Ganondorf. And…Grandfather will come in to properly meet you. He’s—by the _Three_ you have no idea what you did in there, the impact that will have on him.” Sheik said, words rushing out as if they’d been punched out of him as he turned to look at Link again.

“Did I do something wrong? I thought—“

“ _No_. And that’s—look, it’s complicated. Grandfather hails from a long line of Sheikah who’ve dedicated their lives to worshipping… _caring for_ , more honestly, Demise. Do you know who that is?” Sheik looked nervous, now, and that helped ease Link’s own anxiety. It felt _normal_ , like they were _talking._

“No? Vaguely? I don’t—I know nothing about Hylian… _stuff_.” Link finished lamely. Rather than laugh at him, his husband nodded seriously.

“We worship five gods. The Three who created Hyrule and life itself are Din, Nayru, and Farore. The Goddesses. And then their children, Hylia and Demise. Zelda is… _technically_ , a living god. Hylia sacrificed her godhood and became mortal to save Hyrule from Demise’s wrath eons ago. Her blood runs in our veins—only the goddess Hylia reborn may rule, _technically_. When there is no female heir we make do with husbands or brothers. Demise is the….bad one, you could say. He’s not worshipped properly and most fear the mention of his name. He’s considered destruction personified and so much as the sight of him will bring ruin.” Clearly Sheik didn’t believe that, but Link just nodded. It was almost reassuring, to hear Sheik speak of his own gods in much the same way Link had been raised to speak of Majora. _Personal_. Not as if they were some untouchable forces.

“Anyway—Grandfather is an Invoker. A Sheikah who can call upon their patron god.  He spent most of his life with Demise in his head, his body, and they’re still close even though he’s dead. They more or less raised me. What you did didn’t just win over Grandfather, it won over Demise—you promised him your own destruction in return for my hand. He’ll want to speak to you.”

_What._

Sheik’s hand found his shoulder, when Link lowered his head into his hands, elbows braced on his knees.

“You’re going to make me talk to a fucking _god? A fucking god of destruction?”_

Before Sheik could reply a door opened, and Link sat up so quickly Sheik flinched. A Hylian boy had entered the room, and he pushed the door shut behind him before dropping a bundle on the nearest table.

_Thank Majora_ , it wasn’t the corpse.

“Malo? I thought you’d be in town tonight.” Sheik murmured, and he smiled as he stood and embraced the kid. The boy looked a little less uncomfortable with Sheik’s arms around him, though the minute Sheik let go he was back to looking ready to bolt.

“I…got you a gift. It’ll be a while before you get it. You’ll know it when you see it. In Termina, I mean. And this is from Nabooru. Scimitars for you, and some silks for him. You’re part of the family now, she said. She likes you.” The last part was directed at him, and Link was…flattered.

“You have my thanks. And please inform her that I am very grateful.” Link said quietly.

The boy’s face heated, though his expression didn’t change.

“Grandfather’s next. I have to go now.”

Sheik murmured a goodbye, holding the boy again, and a pang went through Link at the sight—Malo nuzzled into him for a moment before pulling away and leaving as quickly as he’d come. Sheik stared after him for a second, and then turned to the bundle in front of him.

“Do you want me to leave when they come? So you can say your goodbyes?” Link asked softly, gaze flickering to the floor as Sheik stilled.

“I’ve already said my goodbyes. We have three days here before we head out, anyway. Plenty of time for those things. Here—what do you think?” Sheik spoke softly, pushing the binding cloth out of the way. Link stood and approached, curious as to what he’d unveiled.

Sheik pulled out two twin swords, curved and thicker around the end than the hilt. They were slimmer than some of the scimitars Link had seen, and decorated simply—silver metal inlaid with a tear-shaped ruby on the base of the hilt, ringed in gold. They were beautiful and clearly fine pieces of work, and Sheik wore a faint smile as he gave them a few testing swings.

The promised silks were not what he’d been expecting. Sheik had to help him pull them free of the cloth so that he could see the outfit properly—a lot of jewelry, a lot of green-blue silks, and a lot of _straps_. It didn’t look like it would cover much…but then, it was likely meant for desert wear.

They bundled the items back up and moved it to the corner of the table, out of the way. No sooner had they finished than the door again opened—this time by a guard—and the skeletal corpse from the ceremony walked in.

It held a lumpy bundle of cloth in its arms, and it set that down in front of Sheik expectantly. Link realized that its eyes were blue—not red, like they’d been at the ceremony—though even as he watched they purpled.

_“Your sister….chose well.”_

“You liked Midna.” It was said sullenly, almost defensively. Sheik was inching his way between him and the corpse, and the sight struck him oddly. The protectiveness.

It made him blush again. Made hope leap in his chest that _this would be okay_.

“ _She is a…lovely monster. But not…concerned with…your safety, Grandson.”_ Mummified fingers reached up and ruffled Sheik’s hair, and he jerked back, hands flying to fix it.

“Aveil spent _hours_ on that, please don’t fuck it up—“

_“You are not…afraid, little knight? Of...me?”_

“You scare me shitless. Sir. Your Highness? Holiness? Sorry. I just—do you mean the dead thing or the god thing?” Link asked, suddenly realizing that he could be completely misunderstanding the question.

Sheik looked up at the ceiling, though the corpse let out a raspy chuckle. Its eyes were red again.

_“I…see. You will…not interfere with…my Grandson’s prayers?”_

“Why—no, of course not. I just—please understand that I probably won’t pray to you?”

_“Why?”_

“I live in perpetual terror that I’ll piss off the Trickster. I did once when I was little.” Link said frankly. At that point he was so red he knew there was no way he was going to stop blushing all night.

The corpse let out a snort.

_“Majora is…a petty little…shit. You…do not…need to pray…to speak to…me. I would…like to be…informed of our…Grandson’s well-being. This….will help you.”_ The corpse’s eyes were tinted purple as it lifted the cloth from its bundle, and Sheik sucked in a sharp breath. Link came forward, interested.

A set of five stone figures sitting side-by-side sat on the table. It was simple, but beautifully carved—each shape more or less identical, fat and oval, but the details of each differing wildly. The first three were carved with the faces of women, eyes made of little chips of gemstone—ruby, sapphire, and emerald. A sword was clutched in the hands of the one with red eyes, a scepter in the hands of the one with blue eyes, and a bow in the hands of the one with green eyes. Beside those three was a figure with chips of diamond for eyes, a trio of golden triangles floating between her hands. The last figure had chips of a black stone for eyes—onyx, maybe, or obsidian?—and was far more muscular than the other four. He held diamond-shaped chips of garnet in his hands, and it took Link a moment to realize they were meant to be flames.

“These were…you took these off your coffin?! Grandfather—“

_“Oh...hush. We were…not using them…anyway. You…have spent your…entire life…praying to these. Take…them with you…so that your…children…may pray to…them…as well.”_

Link hesitated a moment before putting a hand on Sheik’s back, trying to be as reassuring as he could. His husband looked absolutely lost for words, and after a moment ducked his head.

Majora’s blood he was _beautiful_ , and—

The corpse was looking at him like it knew what he was thinking. Link blushed harder, and removed his hand.

_“If you did…not know already…little knight…I do expect…great-grandchildren.”_ The corpse added, maw twisting into a grin.

“That isn’t going to be a problem, is it?” Sheik asked softly, glancing at him. Embarrassed.

“F— _No,_ no no no, that’s—no, not a problem.” He felt like the words were cheap, with a corpse and a prince looking at him expectantly, but he meant them. He’d always wanted children, and this was…well, getting it out of the way erased the need for any awkward conversations about it later down the road and for that Link was grateful.

_“Take…care of him.”_ The corpse whispered, purple eyes boring into Link’s. He nodded mutely, and watched as the corpse embraced Sheik once more before leaving.

“…So he’s your grandfather, and Zelda’s too? But he’s Sheikah?” Link waited a long moment before asking, the wheels in his head finally turning enough to recognize the problem there.

Sheik paused, turned to look at him blankly for a moment before sighing.

“You really know nothing about Hyrule, do you?”

“I already told you I don’t.”

“Probably best. It’s…complicated. Everything is. But he is Zelda’s grandfather, too. He was our father’s father.”

If what Kafei had told him was true though, wouldn’t that make him the madwoman’s husband? Link opened his mouth to ask, but Sheik’s expression stopped him.

“His mother was a minor Hylian noble, his other mother a Sheikah. Queen Hilda passed by her lands, saw him, and decided she had to fuck him. He didn’t have a choice—if he said no she’d have killed his family and likely those that lived on her lands. So he kept it secret. Gave her a couple kids, and when she decided to murder and enslave his people, killed himself. Wanted to protect the kids—if she’d found out, she’d have killed them.”

“ _Shit._ Sorry for...making you bring that up. I didn’t…sorry.” Link didn’t really know what to do with his hands so he just kind of inched over to the closest seat and sat down.

Sheik snorted.

“My family history is a series of shit-shows. What about yours?”

“…Um. I don’t know. I don’t know that much about it. My grandmother married a Hylian, that was kind of a huge deal. I don’t think Cole ever forgave her for that. I didn’t get to meet her until after my mother died, though—she lived at the Citadel with Cole and Dina. She helped teach me to use a sword—didn’t talk much, but she could kick my ass any day with a _stick._ And…Cole’s an asshole, but everybody knows that. Most of ‘em just drink to cope with him.” That earned a smile, if brief.

“No father?” Sheik asked, tilting his head to the side. Strands of hair swung across his face at the movement. Link shrugged.

“Mother had the parenting thing down pretty good. Wouldn’t be interested in meeting him now, even if I had the chance.”

“Thank you, by the way. For…well. Grandfather. What you did…” Sheik trailed off, looking away. Before he could resume speaking, the door flew open.

Link decided to give up having a full conversation. Clearly the gods had other plans for them.

In strode the tallest woman he had ever seen. She was Hylian, with hair the color of fire—orange, shot through with threads of yellow-gold and white. She wore a dress clearly Gerudo-inspired, a piece of black cloth tied at one hip—leaving the entire length of one side of her leg bare—and a tight strip of matching cloth around her chest. Some sort of wrap twisted around her body, tied elaborately on the top of her head. Wide yellow eyes smirked dangerously at them, and a smile _so far beyond dangerous_ played at her lips.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Midna?” Sheik’s tone was _rude_ , and it startled Link, left him gaping.

“It’s a celebration, dear. I came to help you and that pretty little boy of yours _celebrate_.” She purred, and with a flourish held out a…packet. Of something. Judging by the way Sheik’s eyes grew _huge_ , it…was something? Link had no idea.

She shot Link a smug look as Sheik continued to gape, and she pressed it into Sheik’s hands before stepping forward until she stood in front of Link, hands on her hips.

“I am Lady Midna Dinraal of Eldin. Before Her Majesty stepped in, I was to marry your husband.”

“That Keet boy was—“

“ _Please_ , he had nothing to offer politically. Only _I_ am of any value to the Council, and we all know it.”

“You’re a fucking sadist is what you are—now take this shit back.” Sheik snarled, and a short game of chase ensued as Lady Midna refused to take the packet back. Link just watched, unwilling to get involved.

She was clearly trying to get under his skin, Link decided. And maybe Sheik’s as well. He didn’t know what was in the packet, but he doubted it was benign. But there was no dislike in their eyes, no hate. Maybe they were friends? She’d said—what, Sheik was to marry her before the Queen had chosen Link as his partner? That made no sense, but it had to mean they were close. Close-ish. Right?

The door opened again and a cloaked figure stepped in. As soon as she caught sight of them, Midna stopped dead and smiled innocently. Sheik took the opportunity to drop the packet into her wrap, and then sat down beside Link.

“That is Wolf. Her bodyguard. Wolf, this is Link. I’ve asked Rusl to not bother either of you tonight. You won’t have free reign of the palace, but no one should give you a hard time.” Sheik’s tone was much more civil, his words far more put together than they had been a moment ago. The cloaked figure—Wolf—inclined their head slightly.

“I doubt your sister’s toy soldiers will put up much of a fight with us. They’ll be too busy trying to reign in the rabble you’ve forced into the palace.” Midna said dryly, cuddling up against her bodyguard’s side. An arm emerged from the cloak, slid gently around her waist. Wolf was shorter than she was, though, so she still towered over him.

Link shot his husband a questioning look, and Sheik stared at him blankly for a moment before letting out a soft _oh_ of realization.

“Everyone’s been invited to the celebration. Not nobles and soldiers but the common people as well. Rusl is the Captain of the Guard, and he’s been being… _difficult.”_

“Can you blame him, dear? You’re letting in every whore and thief in Castle Town!” Midna said, amused. Sheik’s eyes narrowed.

“Careful, _dear_. Those whores and thieves are the only people keeping you alive.”

The bodyguard didn’t like that at all, but Midna just laughed.

“Well, Lord Link, it has been wonderful to make your acquaintance. And please—get your husband to relax tonight. Have some _fun.”_ She punctuated the last word by throwing something at him. Link flinched, barely managing to catch the object, but when he’d lowered his hands she was gone.

It was the packet.

“What exactly is this, anyway?” It seemed like a safe question to go with.

“Aphrodisiac.” Sheik answered still scowling at it. Link stared blankly at him until his husband looked up, and then his eyes went wide.

“You don’t—it’s a drug. You take it and fuck like a rabbit until it wears off. You’ve never heard of these before?”

“No I—not by that name! Why would she give it to you?!” Link’s voice was shrill, and he couldn’t look his husband in the eyes. His face _burned_.

“You can’t tell me you don’t get _that_.” Sheik said, amused, and Link forced himself to look up at Sheik’s smirk.

“It’s not for you. It’s a joke, if a bad one, about my age. The oldest bachelor in the Kingdom, she called me, and I just married a boy younger than my little sister.” It took a moment or two for Link to process what that meant, in its entirety, and Sheik laughed at him when he flushed.

“You’re not that old.”

“Twenty-four. You’re…?”

“Twenty-one.”

“Three years difference, then.” Sheik murmured, tilting his head back, regarding Link from half-closed eyes.

He was really a sight to behold.

Link swallowed, hard, knowing he was still blushing, and spoke.

“Well. I’ve always liked older men.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t know if I’ve said this before or not but heeeey just so you know I don’t use OCs in this fic. Everybody’s from the Zelda games. I’m sure you all know who Cole is, but Dina is from Minish Cap. Dina and Tina? Teachers or something, npcs you can find in town. She has a ridiculously strict/pointy design, so I took that literally into her character—she’s strict, in charge, cruel, and aloof. She’ll get more development later lol right now I feel like I’ve just made her a Generic Squawky Asshole.  
> One more chapter about the wedding and then we move in I promise lmao.  
> Up next: Sexy Times.


	11. you fucked a what

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> .........so this is a thing.

“Are you sure you don’t need…something?” He knew he was a little drunk when he paused, swaying in the doorway to the wedding chambers. It was Wolf asking, not Midna this time, but the edge in the man’s voice was just as rough and honey-sweet as hers had been.

At least they hadn’t propositioned everyone at the wedding. Just them. And Zelda. Ganondorf had looked so uncomfortable Sheik had almost spit out his drink laughing.

At Zelda’s wedding, it had been Nabooru drunk off her ass asking everyone to bed. The Gerudo Captain wouldn’t talk about it now and woe to any who brought it up, but it was tradition at that point and Sheik wasn’t too bothered by it.

“You’re fucking animals.” He said, and somewhere behind him something crashed.

“But— _not a fucking chance_.” Sheik’s voice wasn’t venomous, but the slam of the doors was loud, deafening. Still, Wolf’s raspy laughter chased them shut. Sheik made sure the door was locked, _just in case._

When he turned around, Link was sitting on the ground trying to set the dishes he’d knocked down back onto the table. There was no food or drink set out, thank the Three, but the Terminian still looked absolutely horrified.

He was halfway through putting the last cup back up on the table—still sitting on the ground—when he froze and slowly turned his head. His eyes were wide as saucers. He looked like a puppy. A guilty puppy.

An _adorable_ guilty puppy.

“I—I fixed it.” His voice was small, nervous.

This was _so_ unfair.

“Can you stand?”

Link blinked, and lowered his hands slowly. The cup was still clutched in his hands, but he didn’t seem to realize it.

“Why don’t…you should join me down here.”

Sheik stared at him for a long moment, and then Link’s mouth lifted into a tentative, hopeful smile, and Sheik found himself sitting down beside his husband.

Link let out a little noise, partly a cheer of victory and partly a laugh, and dropped his head onto Sheik’s shoulder.

“Are you alright?” Sheik asked, and after a moment he dared to look down at the Terminian.

Link’s eyes were wide blue discs, and he smiled again when he saw Sheik looking down at him.

“You’re not very prince-like.”

Sheik let out a slow breath. That was not a conversation he wanted to have on his wedding night. It was already going to be awkward as hell.

“I’m not a prince, I’m a bastard.”

“I’m too drunk for politics. Your sister’s the queen and the priest called you a prince so you’re a prince. He was kind of an asshole.” Link’s voice went from petulant to confiding, and he tilted his head up further as he spoke. Sheik tried not to lean away from him—there was no need to, no threat or worry—and succeeded.

“Who?” He asked, after a long moment.

“The priest. Or those old guys. Your sister’s advisors. They didn’t like me either though.”

“The Council doesn’t like anybody.” Sheik murmured.

“This is a big room.”

That made him laugh, and he shifted, pushed himself across the floor until his back was leaning against the bedframe.

They were in his room. Irene had cleaned it up, opened the windows. It was a cool night, and chilled air swept in slowly. She’d redecorated, too. Changed most of the blacks in the room into blues and reds. He was getting sick of the colors at that point, honestly.

Link scooted after him immediately, leaving the cup abandoned on the floor.

Somebody was going to step on that, he was sure.

“Are you upset that you had to marry me?” Link asked suddenly, and his hand was suddenly on Sheik’s leg, body turned to face him, expression hesitant and earnest.

Sheik let out a slow breath.

“We’ve yet to see.”

“How’s that?” Link demanded, and Sheik couldn’t tell if he was confused, offended, or both.

Zelda had told him he’d have to make the first move. Offer something to the Terminian in the means of trust, if he wanted to get any in return. That would have been damn near impossible for him, if Link hadn’t already tossed his life away like nothing just to appease Grandfather.

His actions had thrown him into a strange spot—he was still a stranger, but he’d done so much just to ensure Sheik felt comfortable already….

Sheik didn’t know if Link was trustworthy, if he would be a good husband, if he was some psychopath very good at acting, or if he would toss Sheik to his aunt and uncle the minute they left the palace. It would take months, if not years, before Sheik could figure that out. But Link had already built a more solid foundation for that than Sheik ever would have expected.

“I need you to promise me two things. And I will promise you those two things in return.” He said softly, and helped his husband settle back against his side.

“What are they?”

“Promise me that you’ll never lie to me.”

“…What if I want to surprise you? Do you like surprises?”

“That’s not the same thing, and no.” Sheik sighed. Link let out a considering hum.

He was about as drunk as Sheik was—meaning not very—but the alcohol Aveil had given him _had_ made him more talkative. It was a pleasant change, even if it was like talking to…well, Aveil.

“ _Oh_. You mean about important things.”

“Yes.”

“Yeah, sure. And you promise not to lie to me either?”

“Yes.”

“What’s the other one?”

Sheik didn’t answer immediately. He tugged at Link’s hair until the Terminian looked up at him, until their gazes met.

“You’re not allowed to fuck _anyone_ else. I don’t _share_.” He said slowly, pulling gently at a blonde lock as he did so. Link’s face flushed _red_ , and he bit his lip as he nodded. Fucking _Three_ this was unfair.

“Is that a thing here? The—um…infidelity?” Judging by his look, he wasn’t sure if he’d used the right word. Sheik couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips.

“It goes against the Three’s doctrine, if that’s what you mean. But it’s common, usually accepted as long as it’s… _discrete.”_

“How come? I mean—it’s not okay in Termina. I’m just curious.”

Sheik blinked, and had to wonder for a moment if the question was serious.

“Not every man enjoys fucking women. Not every woman enjoys fucking women. You’re _supposed_ to marry for love, but not everyone does. Case in point.” Sheik added, waving a hand between the two of them. Link bolted upright immediately, and he grabbed at Sheik’s hands.

“Are you—you’re not—you’re okay with this right?!”

“I’m—what are you asking me?” Link scowled at him, expression pulled down petulantly, and then he leaned forward and kissed Sheik. It, like the one in the ceremony, was chaste, but it was firmer, stronger.

Perhaps, Sheik allowed himself to think, this would end up alright.

“Am I your first kiss?” Sheik murmured, fingers brushing Link’s cheek when he pulled away. His husband hadn’t pulled back more than a hair, nestled comfortably on his knees between Sheik’s legs, forehead resting against Sheik’s own.

“N—no. I—am I yours?”

Sheik lifted an eyebrow, but shook his head carefully.

“…So you _like_ …men. Right?” Link pressed, and Sheik couldn’t help but laugh.

“Is that what you’re worried about?”

“ _Yes._ Do you?”

“Man, woman—that has nothing to do with what I like, dear. If this will be unpleasant, it will be unpleasant because one of us is not skilled. Alright?” Sheik brushed his mouth across Link’s as he spoke, and he would have been lying if he’d said he didn’t enjoy the way Link’s face darkened.

“I’ve—I’ve done this before. Sort of.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?” He didn’t mean it in a rude way and Link clearly didn’t take it as such, but suddenly the Terminian was blushing so deeply he was pulling away from Sheik, burying his face in his hands. When he responded, his voice was little more than a squeak.

“Well. It was with a Zora.”

It took a few seconds to process that.

“ _What?”_ It escaped him in a bubbling laugh, and when Link shrank further into himself Sheik started to laugh harder.

“How?” Sheik finally managed to gasp out, and Link finally seemed to work up the courage to glare at him.

“I don’t—my uncle doesn’t like your marriage traditions. When I was twelve he caught me kissing a boy and beat the shit out of me. The kid disappeared, and I don’t know if he’s alive or not today. So when I was eighteen Kafei took me to the Great Bay and my uncle can’t do anything to the Zora, _so._ Also I was drunk, and he was very friendly, and he had _two fucking dicks_.”

Sheik was speechless for a moment, and he couldn’t help but laugh again—this time softer, less surprised.

“And that was your first time?”

“My only time, actually. Don’t get out of the Citadel much.”

“Color me impressed. That was smart of you.” He couldn’t keep the smile out of his voice, and Link’s face flushed again.

“And—what about you?”

Sheik paused, and he couldn’t help the frown that crossed his face.

“I don’t—my first time?”

“Yeah.”

Sheik hesitated a second, but…honesty deserved honesty.

“…This boy I grew up with, I guess you could say. Vaati. Ganondorf was _pissed_ when he found out.”

“How come?”

“Vaati is… _different_. He’s a sorcerer. Refused to bow to my father and suffered for it, so when Ganondorf accidentally let him out he made sure to avenge himself. Ganondorf wasn’t pleased. He’s…protective.”

Link was staring at him.

“You fucked a war criminal?”

“Fucking him kept him from being declared a war criminal.” Sheik corrected, and Link let out the most childish groan Sheik had ever heard.

He realized how he’d worded thing too late. He hadn’t slept with Vaati _because_ of that—it had just been an unforeseen side-effect. Not that either of them had complained about it.

“Same damn thing. But how does—how come Ganondorf’s so…I don’t know. Didn’t he murder your father? And I’m sorry for changing the subject and stuff but it’s freaking me out.”

“How?” Sheik was only mildly offended, but…that was his own issues causing it, not Link’s questions. Honestly if the boy didn’t already know, Sheik kind of _had_ to tell him. Who knew what spin his uncle had put on what had happened, if he’d told Link anything.

“The—because you and your sister seem to like him. I mean, she _married_ him, and you’re—he makes you feel safe so—“

Sheik blinked, and tried to fight the heat rising in his own cheeks. Link was clearly more than the airhead Sheik kept pegging him for, to pick up on such little details, and it took more than a little bit of effort to keep control of his guilt.

“Ganondorf murdered my father. For that I owe him everything—my love, my respect, and my loyalty. Rhoam was a monster.”

“...What’d he do?” Link’s voice was subdued, but he still sounded confused.

_Shit._

Sheik sighed, scrubbing his face over his hands, and took a moment to order his thoughts.

“…The night Ganondorf murdered him, he was going to kill Zelda. He’d caught her talking to me once, and he’d beat me in front of her to keep her from doing so again. He caught her again—caught me again, this time in her room. I escaped thanks to Vaati, and I fucking _begged_ Ganondorf to save her. And he did.” His voice was just as quiet as Link’s had been, but it still prickled at his nerves. He didn’t like talking about it—telling Ganondorf had been _easy_ , when they’d been young. But realizing the full extent of what his father had done to him, to Zelda…growing up had made it harder. Not that Zelda had ever spoken much about him after his death.

“…So he was… _why_?! You’re his _kids.”_

“I’m _Sheikah_. And Zelda was disobeying him. _Protecting_ a Sheikah. You forget what his mother did to us. Or—you do know about that, don’t you?”

“Kafei told me a little bit. I just—I can’t imagine someone doing that to their children.” Link murmured, and he fell silent. Sheik looked away from him awkwardly, letting out a low hum.

 _Fuck_ this was awkward.

“Will our kids be Sheikah?”

He started at that, and Link twisted around to give him a confused look.

“I don’t—I am the last of my people, Link. I won’t force them to drag around that kind of dead weight. If they want to, Grandfather and I will be happy to teach them.” He said softly, and he tried not to reach for his chest, for the tattoos there.

“Holy _fuck_ I was talking about the—the eye thing or, or physical stuff not— _Majora’s Blood.”_

Sheik couldn’t help but smirk, and he stood, pulling Link to his feet as well.

“ _Now._ We have some business to attend to.”

Link’s expression twisted into confusion, and Sheik dropped down onto the bed with a chuckle.

“ _Oh._ I—no, you don’t—I’m—I don’t want to do this if you’re not ready.” Link said quickly, shaking his head and moving to step away. Sheik caught his hand, held it too tightly for his husband to slip away.

“We don’t have a choice. Hyrulean marriages are not valid without sex—to prevent people from marrying those they are not at _least_ attracted to. And I will not risk this marriage over comfort.” Not when it meant so much to Zelda, not when even Sheik couldn’t fault the logic she’d used _even if_ he knew it was only there to appease him, because he wouldn’t just accept a partner Zelda trusted with him, not when his hand could be used to _help_ her.

Link still looked panicked, eyes wide and fearful as he stared at him.

“I’m _fine.”_ Sheik said, rolling his eyes—and then Link leaned forward, and murmured a soft _alright_ against his lips. He took Sheik’s hands in his own, shyly, and tilted his head down to stare at their entwined fingers. At the matching steel bands encasing their fingers, black script sunk deep into the metal, gold glinting up from the grooves.

Ancient Terminian, reciting a prayer to Majora. They had been a gift from Link’s family—gifted by his aunt and uncle, but picked out by his cousins. Rings signified marriage in Termina, apparently. The Sheikah did so with earrings, the Gerudo with tattoos, Zora with bitemarks, Hylians with surnames. The Gorons didn’t do anything, but that was mostly because their culture focused on _community_. Having a single partner was unheard of, as far as Sheik knew.

Not, of course, that he’d spent much time at Death Mountain, or Kakariko. He’d spent most of his life avoiding the area, except for the Temple. Impa still clung to the place like death.

“Where’s the—um, do you have any oil? Or…something that’ll work instead?”

Sheik grinned, and tilted his head towards a table nested right against the bed. Link’s gaze followed the movement, and he grinned in turn.

“And you’re sure you’re alright?” Link asked again, leaning forward until he was all but pressed against Sheik’s body. Sheik’s hands were braced on the bed behind him, and his grin twitched into something softer.

It was sweet, and reassuring, how intent Link was on Sheik’s comfort.

“Are you?”

Link paused for a moment, and may the Three bless him, actually seemed to think it over before nodding.

“Yes.”

It had…been a _very_ long time since Sheik had actually had sex, he realized a little belatedly, but Link kissed him firmly, _deeply_ this time, and he couldn’t bring himself to care. If Link had told the truth they were both out of practice, after all, and Link was so eager that Sheik couldn’t help but look forward to it.

And if this all ended up being some sort of act, if Link ended up being worse than Midna could ever hope to be, then Sheik would deal with that. And if it turned out Sheik was just being paranoid, then he would deal with that, too.

So Sheik steeled himself, and found that a little easier than he’d expected it to be.

He pressed a hand to the back of Link’s neck, pulled him in closer, and Link’s eyes got large and serious again.

“Let me—you’re still too nervous though. And I think I might throw up.”

“What do you suggest we do about that, then?” Sheik sighed, tilting his head back.

“Drink.” He said it so bluntly Sheik laughed.

“So—what? Play a drinking game.”

“That sounds great. Take a couple shots. Relax. And then we’ll make this marriage official.” It took all of two seconds before Link realized what he’d said and his face turned bright red. And then burying his face in Sheik’s chest.

That was…not an altogether unpleasant idea. And this was not an altogether unpleasant position.

“I can do that.”

Link rubbed his cheek against Sheik’s chest when he looked up, and he smiled, shyly. And damn it all if his heart didn’t beat so hard it _hurt._

“Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah i'm so bad at ending chapters it's not even funny. I apologize.
> 
> I'm having issues with this relationship lmao. I wanted to write them drunk off their asses fucking for this chapter but that doesn't fit with them at ~all~ so changed it and it's...it's a shitty position to put them in because they are literal strangers and they don't trust each other and everything BUT IT HAD TO HAPPEN SO. Enjoy.


	12. everybody's naked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which baths are had

               “…Hi.” A long, slow, _wicked_ smirk curled across Sheik’s mouth, ruby eyes little more than slits as he stared at Link, and Link pretended like his voice hadn’t just cracked.

Sheik was leaning against the lip of the bathing pool, arms sprawled lazily across the stone. Steam lay thick in the air between them, and strands of his hair clung to his face and neck. Most of it was pulled into a loose bun at the top of his head, held in place with a black stick. He was absolutely naked, and though it wasn’t anything Link hadn’t seen before, he hadn’t been expecting it. Or the way Sheik shifted his hips, flashing every mark on him, _intentionally_.

“Good morning.” Sheik purred out, and Link finally snapped to action. He turned, gluing his eyes on the stone bench beside him. It wasn’t that much better, honestly. Clean clothes were set out for Sheik, all he was to wear from that morning until they made it back to Akkala. And it was nothing more than a few roles of bandages. That sent his imagination _racing_.

“I—um, I’m sorry for disturbing you. I’ll—I’ll l—“

“Don’t make me drag you in here, husband.”  Link’s mouth snapped shut, and he lifted his gaze to stare.

Sheik sounded—and looked— _playful_. And that was new. He’d hidden it well during the wedding—and the night after—but he had been uncomfortable, nervous, and _scared_. He’d been kind to Link, and had made Link feel comfortable, but…this sudden ease was the exact opposite. And after a single night, suspicious. Especially with the news that had greeted them that morning.

“You’re not…mad?”

“I am so fucking _furious_ I might murder your uncle. But this wasn’t something we didn’t expect to happen. I’ve already said my goodbyes. Now. Why would I be mad at _you?_ Unless you had something to do with this?” Sheik murmured, tilting his head to the side.

Link winced, but inched over to the lip of the pool and lowered himself into the water. It was scalding, and he sucked in a sharp breath before daring to speak.

“I—um, it’s kind of my fault. The only other person capable of negotiating with the Lynels is this hermit blacksmith up in the mountains, and he doesn’t like Cole. It’s either book it back before the mating season begins or lose our entire army trying to keep them away from settlements.”

“…And this season isn’t consistent across the years?”

“No. It’s related to their population, though we’re not exactly sure how every one of them can sense when it gets low _or_ what that cutoff is. And they happen more frequently near times of…agitation, I guess. The seasons have been pretty frequent for the past hundred years, what with the civil war and Hyrule’s unrest. Tensions are still high, so they still breed a lot. Pretty good indication of what’s going to go down in the future—but once people realized it, knowing that also increases unrest, so it’s a double-edged sword.” Link shrugged, relaxing. _This_ was something he knew about, something he could talk about and not make a fool of himself over.

He looked around the room as he spoke. There were no windows in the bathing chamber, and it was a rather small room—the pool in the center taking up most of the floor, with benches and small tables ringing the walls. Small raised rectangles of stone on the edge of the pool held soaps, bottles, and salts, along with clothes and sponges. Link poked at the glass bottles, and found some to be perfume and a few to be slick enough to be soap, of some sort.

“And how did you end up so qualified? I find it hard to believe Cole would let you risk your life like that.” Sheik sounded genuinely curious, even if he still had that stupid smirk on his face. It was wider, more honestly amused than teasing, and Link stared a few seconds too long at his husband’s mouth before looking down at the water between them and blushing. Again.

“Kafei doesn’t trust Cole. He made sure I made myself invaluable—not necessarily to my uncle, but to the Citadel. I spent enough time out in the wilds that I made friends with one of the nearby Lynels, and they taught me their language. About as much of it as I could possibly use, anyway. They’re intelligent, just like people.” He added firmly, his gaze flickering up again. Lynel weren’t native to Hyrule and he doubted Sheik had any experience with them. Mistaking them for mindless beasts was the most common mistake people made with them—and often their last. That Cole was taking their threat seriously now was only as an excuse to get out of Hyrule, retreat with the prize they’d been given and lord it over the rest of Termina.

Sheik let out a low hum, and slid himself further into the water, limbs sprawling out even more than they had been. Leaving him completely exposed.

Link tried to think of unpleasant things, and turned to stare at the entrance. A collection of bottles blocked his view, and after a moment he reached out and took two at random.

“Come here.”

His head snapped around, gaze meeting half-closed slivers of ruby, and Link _knew_ his face was burning.

“What?”

Sheik’s fingers flicked, speckling Link’s face with droplets of water. He flinched, startled, and stared.

“Come here.”

Link decided it would be better to obey, and he scooted closer to the prince carefully. When he was within reach of him, Sheik reached out and pulled him closer—sitting him on the lip of the ledge Sheik reclined on, between his thighs. With his back to his husband, Link couldn’t see what Sheik was doing, but he could _feel_ his smirk, his flesh against his own.

And then Sheik’s hand dipped into his line of view, snatching the bottles Link held from him.

“This is not meant for _cleaning_ , Link. And _this_ would likely burn your eyes out of your skull if you tried to wash with it.”

“Then why—“

“Relax.” There was no mistaking the amusement in his voice.

“No, but—what are you—“

“Hold still, and close your eyes.”

Link barely had time to obey before something cold dripped onto his head, and he flinched at the chill before he realized what his husband was doing.

“You don’t have to—“

“Indulge me.” Sheik said, and again Link was struck by how _amused_ his tone was. He wasn’t irritated or annoyed by Link’s confusion, his refusal. Or he was at least hiding it very well.

It was…well. Link didn’t think that Sheik was that patient of a person, and the amount of patience being shown to him made him blush, feel _warm_.

It helped ease the constant anxiety prickling at his nerves—what if they didn’t get along? What if they ended up _hating_ each other?—but it didn’t help much with his self-consciousness.

Sheik worked whatever it was into his hair silently, guiding him with a gentle pressure when he wanted Link to submerge his head. That, too, threw him. He’d expected more questions. Especially with Cole’s announcement that morning.

“…There. You can clean the rest of yourself alone, can’t you?” Sheik finally broke the silence, hands sliding off of Link’s shoulders as Link emerged from the water.

“Are you offering to help?” Link shot back, shaking his head in a mostly-failed effort to get wet hair out of his eyes. Sheik smirked.

“Please don’t.”

Link froze at the voice, recognizing the deep timbre of it immediately, and slowly turned to see the King of Hyrule stepping into the bath. The _naked_ King of Hyrule.

That was a _lot_ of scars.

“I thought you’d be sleeping in.” Sheik said, a thread of laughter in his voice as he grabbed Link’s arm and pulled him back, beside him.

Link decided staring at his lap would be the safest thing to do. Not that he wasn’t already blushing so hard he could literally feel it.

“I let his racism slide yesterday, I don’t intend to do so today. The fuck actually thinks he can challenge me, in my own fucking castle in my own fucking lands?” The King snorted, and Link winced. He wasn’t wrong, but…if the King of Hyrule was acknowledging Cole’s behavior as offensive, then _something_ would go down today, wouldn’t it?

“The departure, you mean?” Sheik asked, sounding surprised.

“It’s an insult to our name. The wedding sheets aren’t even dry and he wants to fuck off back to his little rock pile? Zelda—well, you know how she is. Is this urgency real, boy?”

It took Link a moment to realize he was being addressed, and he flushed harder at the attention—not that he hadn’t already been mortified by the way Cole had clearly been acting.

“I—I’m sure my uncle—“

“Yes, though likely not _as_ urgent as Cole’s making it out to be.” Sheik interrupted, stretching his arms above his head. The King snorted.

“I doubt these Lynels could hold a candle to the Molduga migrations in the desert.”

“Do you get a lot of those?” Link asked, before he could think to stop himself. Rather than glaring at him or sneering, though, the King laughed.

“A lot? Boy, Hyrulean Molduga are the size of a house. When they migrate they kill _everything_ in their path. Termina doesn’t have enough sand to grow them that large. You have fucking _worms_.”

“How do you stop them, then? Or – well, do you?” Link amended, leaning forward curiously.

“They are the reason we build our homes in the cliffs. They can’t move through solid rock. And we send out hunting parties – we take out the stragglers, those who wander too close to our herds. It’s a rite of passage. Explosives are hard to come by out there, but they work well – you just gut the things once they’re on their backs.”

“So they have soft hides?”

“Young ones do.”

Sheik sighed, and when Link glanced towards him, stood straight up, still entirely nude, and pulled himself out of the bath. Water sloughed off of him like cloth, and the prince worked his fingers through his hair, squeezing out excess moisture and not seeming to care that he was just…standing there. Still very much naked.

Link ducked his head, refusing to look up from the water as his face burned.

“I am going to finish preparing for the journey. Please try not to let him drown.” Sheik finally said, voice dry. Link’s face flushed again, but the click of a door told him Sheik had left already.

“I should – “

“I don’t know what your uncle wants with him, boy, but I leave it to you to impress the importance of his safety on him. If anything happens to Sheik your uncle – and you – will be held accountable. And – well.” The King stopped, letting out a soft chuckle, and he sat forward. His expression was serious, not vicious, but his threat was still clear. Link kept himself still, just nodded.

“I can guess what your uncle thinks of my military strength. But I won’t come for him with my armies. I’ll come for him with my bare hands and my wife – and _that_ , boy, should terrify you beyond anything your demon god could ever do.”

Link hesitated a moment before replying, wincing inwardly at the blasphemy.

“You’re telling me that the Queen is a greater threat than you?”

The King let out another chuckle and stood, climbing out of the tub. He put his back to Link as he did it, the action intentional.

“Talk to Sheik, boy. Care for him. Love him. Trust him. And if by some miracle you prove worthy of it, he will trust you. Then ask him about his family. Ask him about his history. Ask him who really brought Hyrule to its knees. Because I promise you, boy, it wasn’t me.”

And with that, the King left Link alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so yeah sorry it's so fucking short.


	13. zelda's a bamf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Promises are made.

               “What are your orders?” Nabooru asked quietly, leaning casually against the pillar to Zelda’s right. Ganondorf was frowning at her other side, watching the flurry of movement beneath them. The Terminian entourage was busy packing, and things were not going smoothly. It likely didn’t help that Sheik’s allies were causing problems, loitering and making general nuisances of themselves. They were furious over the sudden departure, viewed the marriage as little more than a kidnapping. And Zelda couldn’t bring herself to order them away.

The Queen of Hyrule wiped her own frown off her face, folding her hands neatly in front of her.

“I trust Sheik to handle this as he sees fit.”

“Once they’re in Termina.” Nabooru corrected, arching an immaculate eyebrow at her.

“…Yes. An official escort will take them as far as Eldin province – after that they are not to know they are being watched.” Her volume dropped on the last phrase, wary as ever of prying eyes and ears. Both Gerudo turned to look at her fully, the chaos below them forgotten.

“What do you know?” Ganondorf’s voice was low, gravely, and he put a hand on her waist. Nabooru pushed herself off the pillar, tensing. The King hadn’t picked up on Nabooru’s sudden alertness, had only moved to comfort Zelda, and her heart warmed.

It had taken years before she’d realized he truly meant nothing but the best for her and her brother, but afterwards – she loved it, feeling _safe_. Seeing Sheik safe, _healthy_.

She forced a smile, bright and brittle, as she leaned into his touch.

“He may have hated living in the castle, but it – _we_ – kept him safe. Without our protection, Impa will attack him. Her loyalists have not been subtle, exactly. They’ve begun moving again, and I won’t allow that in my lands.”

For a moment, there was nothing but a dark, heavy silence.

“You are using him as _bait?!”_ Ganondorf growled, and his hand fell away like she had burned him. She frowned at him.

“Is that why you chose the Terminian boy?”

“…No. I had already made my decision when she began moving.”

“She will _kill him_ , Zelda!”

“She will try. She wouldn’t be moving so brazenly again without some kind of power we don’t know of. She has to be in Termina – it’s the only place close enough to Hyrule’s borders she could find ready allies in and still keep her operations here running smoothly.”

It had taken…well, she didn’t want Sheik to know about it, and so it had taken her longer than it should have to gather enough information to piece together a vague idea of Impa’s plan. And considering how _easy_ it had been to contact Lord Cole…

Impa wanted Sheik in Termina. Away from Zelda and Ganondorf, yes, but…she could have simply lured him to Kakariko. If she just wanted him dead, she wouldn’t have allowed him to be married, taken to Termina, to throw in _that_ many variables, _that_ many factors. Zelda suspected the marriage itself was absolutely paramount to Impa’s plans, but her hands had been tied. She could trust the Terminian with her brother in a way she couldn’t any of the other potential suitors - Midna was loyal, but that wouldn’t have stopped her from hurting Sheik. And she couldn’t dismiss the Council’s demands, not without risking another war.

“You told me you—” Ganondorf’s voice was low, guttural, _violent_.

“If you _dare_ insinuate that I will not burn this entire damn country down _again_ to protect my brother, I will _end_ you.” She snapped, and finally turned from the view to glare at him.

“Do you have _any_ idea how hard it is to make him _happy?_ He might be content _killing himself_ for me but I am _not._ I had to insinuate Termina was about to fall into a fucking _civil war_ to get him even _mildly_ comfortable with this! If Rhoam weren’t already dead I’d raise that bitch myself and make him eat his own intestines for doing that to my brother!”

Nabooru flinched, looked taken aback. Ganondorf didn’t look any less angry, but he looked away and refused to meet her gaze.

“The only person I know better than Sheik is myself. Impa is _his_ demon to slay. Teasing out her stupid plot will preoccupy him, make him feel like he’s _worth something_ , and the Five be willing, give him some motivation to get to know his gods-damned _husband_. I need him to care about something. I need him to fall in love, and be _happy_. I think the Sahasrahla boy is his best chance at that.”

“And if she kills him?” Ganondorf didn’t challenge her. Not truly. He never had. But he looked at her, stared her straight in the eye, and let her know _she could be wrong_. She _had_ been wrong before. And it had cost her – _Sheik_ – more than anyone should ever have to suffer.

It was one of the things she loved about him. So she met that possibility with the same iron-clad certainty she’d met every mistake she’d made with.

“Then I will burn the whole gods-damned country to ash and her with it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's so short? Didn't really fit in with the next part, I figured it'd just be easiest/best to post it by itself lol.
> 
> As much as I love Zelda’s character (IN SOME GAMES MORE THAN OTHERS HOLY FUCK) one of her biggest strengths is how ruthless and manipulative she is (see: entirety of Skyward Sword goddamn). I mean, in SS she’s just being a bitch, but like ~imagine~ if she was using that to protect her peeps. Well guess what you don’t have to here it is enjoy my dudes.
> 
> Random sidenote, I don’t think I’ve ever written as big of an age difference in a relationship as with Ganondorf and Zelda. Like you ever get to the point where you realize you’re reading/writing the same type of relationship/character over and over again? Kinda realized this was outside of my usual comfort zone and I love it very much lmao.


End file.
